"You are not a bit reassuring. However, I shall soon determine." He arose. "I'll call for you at seven, and I'll wager right now that your fears are groundless. Prepare to see me return with a ring through the nose of our giant." "At seven, sharp!" she agreed. "Meanwhile I shall delight myself with a shopping expedition. I'm a perfect sight." At seven she descended from her room in answer to his call, to find him pacing the hotel parlor, his jaw set stubbornly. "What luck?" she demanded. "You spoke with the tongue of a prophet. Money has suddenly become very scarce in Seattle." "How many banks did you try?" "Three. I shall try the rest to-morrow. How did you fare?" "First blood is mine. I feel that I shall capture Mr. Hilliard. Now, no more business, do you understand? No, you are not to mention the subject again. You need a rest. Do you know that your face is haggard and drawn? You are tired out." After a moment's pause, he acknowledged: "I believe I am. I--I am very glad you have come, Cherry." CHAPTER XIV IN WHICH THEY RECOGNIZE THE ENEMY Boyd Emerson slept well that night, notwithstanding the disturbing occurrences of the day, for during the evening Cherry had tactfully diverted him from all mention of business, trusts, or canneries, much as a good physical director, on the eve of a contest, relieves the grinding monotony of an athlete's training. The brain, after all, is but flesh and blood, and, like the muscles, requires rest; an unbroken intensity of contemplation tends inevitably to weariness and pessimism. They had dined gayly, tete-a-tete, while care fled before the girl's exuberant spirits. Contentment had deepened in the companionable enjoyment of a play, and later a little supper-party, at which Big George and Alton Clyde were present, had completed Boyd's mental refreshment, to Cherry's satisfaction. True, it had required all her skill to prevent the big fisherman from holding forth upon the issue uppermost in his mind; but his loyalty to her was doglike, and once he found that his pet topic was tabooed, he lapsed into a good-natured contemplation of his finger-nails, which he polished industriously with his napkin. The girl had further demonstrated her power over all sorts and conditions of men by reducing the blase young club-man to a state of grinning admiration, "Fingerless" Fraser alone had been missing from the coterie. He had discovered them from a distance, to be sure, and come over to exchange greetings with Cherry, but the disastrous result of the fellow's garrulity was still so fresh in Boyd's mind that he could not invite him to join them, and Fraser, with singular modesty, had quickly withdrawn, to wander lonesomely for a while, till sheer ennui drove him to bed. His dejection awakened little sympathy in Boyd, who felt happier for the removal of his irritating presence. In the morning Boyd was brought sharply back to a realization of his difficult position by a letter from Mildred Wayland.