"What do you--?" "Boilers held up." "Boilers?" "Yes. Read that." Balt tossed him a telegram. "'Shipment delayed,'" read Boyd. "Well! This is growing interesting. Thank Heaven, other people handle machinery!" He reached for a blank, and hurriedly wrote a message cancelling his order. "I guess Cherry was right. Marsh is fighting to delay us." He began a recital of the morning's occurrences, but before he had finished he was called to the telephone. "More bad news!" he exclaimed, as he re-entered the room. "The Jackson-Nebur Company say they can't make delivery of their order. I wonder what next." "We don't need nothing more to cripple us," George declared, blankly. "Any one of these blows is a knockout." It was perhaps an hour later that Cherry entered unannounced. "I just ran in for a minute to tell you something new. When I came up from the bank, the elevator boy at the hotel made a mistake and carried me past my floor. Without noticing the difference, I went down the hall, and whom should I run right into, coming out of a room, but our detective! As he opened the door I heard him say, 'Very well, sir, I'll report to-morrow.'" "To whom was he reporting?" "I don't know. A few minutes later I called you up, to tell you about it; but while I was waiting for my number, the operator evidently got the wires crossed or left a switch open, for I heard this much of a conversation: "'Our contract covers fifty thousand cases at five dollars. We thought that was at least twenty cents under the market.' "I was about to ring off when I remembered that you had sold your output of fifty thousand cases to Bloc & Company for five dollars a case, so I listened, on a chance, and heard another voice reply--" "Whose voice?" "I don't know. It said, 'We'll undersell that by one dollar.' "'Good Lord!' said the first speaker, 'that means a loss of--' and then I was cut off. I thought I'd better come over in person instead of trusting to the wire." "And you didn't recognize either speaker?" "No. But I discovered at the office that rooms 610 and 612--the suite I saw that detective coming out of--are occupied by a Mr. Jones, of New York, who arrived three days ago. I'll bet anything you please that you'll hear from Bloc & Company within twenty-four hours, and that the occupant of those rooms at the Hotel Buller is Willis Marsh." Big George began to mutter profanely. "It looks like they had us, and all because Fraser's tongue is hung in the middle." "All the same, we'll fight it out," said Emerson, grimly. "If I can raise that money in Tacoma--" Again the telephone bell buzzed noisily. "Bloc & Company," predicted Cherry, but for once she was wrong. "A call from Tacoma," said Boyd, the receiver to his ear; "it must be the Second National. They were not to let me know till to-morrow." Through the open door of the adjoining room his words came distinctly, while the others listened in tense silence.