"Well, I like silence and quietude--I'm a fool about my quiet--but Clyde--" he paused, as if in search for suitable expression. "Well, whenever I try to say anything he interrupts me." After another pause he went on: "He's dead sore on this place, too, and whines around like a litter of pups. He says he was misled into coming up here, and has a hunch he's going to lose his bank-roll." "Last night's episode frightened him, I dare say." "Yes. Ever since he got that wallop on the burr in Seattle a guinea pig could lick him hand to hand. You'd think that ten thou' he put up was all the wealth of the Inkers." "The wealth of what?" "Inkers! That's a tribe of rich Mexicans. However, I suppose I'd hang to my coin the same way he does if I had a mayonnaise head like his. He's an awful shine as a business-man." "So he's homesick, eh?" "Sure! Offered to sell me his stock." Fraser threw back his head and gave vent to one of his rare laughs. "Ain't that a rave?" "Here he comes now," Boyd announced, with a glance out the window, and the next instant Alton Clyde entered, a picture of dejection. "Gee! This is fierce, isn't it?" the club-man began, flinging himself into the nearest chair. "They tell me it's all off, finally. What are you going to do?" "Put up what fish I can with a short crew," said Boyd. "We'll lose a lot of money." "Probably." Clyde's tone was querulous as he continued: "I'm sorry I ever went into this thing. You bet if I had known as much in Chicago as I know now, I would have hung on to my money and stayed at home." "You knew as much as we did," Boyd declared, curtly. "Oh, it's all right for you to talk. You haven't risked any coin in the deal, but I'm a rotten businessman, and I'll never make my ante back again if I lose it." "Don't whine about it," said Boyd, stiffly. "You can at least be game and lose like a man." "Then we _are_ going to lose, eh?" queried Clyde, in a scared voice. "I thought maybe you had a plan. Look here," he began an instant later, "Cherry pulled us out once before, why don't you let her see what she can do with Marsh?" Boyd scanned the speaker's face sharply before speaking. "What do you mean by that?" "I mean she can work him if she tries, the same way she worked Hilliard." "Marsh isn't in the mood to listen to arguments. I have tried that." "Who said anything about arguments? You know what I mean." "I don't care to listen to that sort of talk." "Why not? I'm entitled to have my say in things." Clyde was growing indignant. "I put in ten thousand of my own money and twenty-five thousand besides, on your assurances. That's thirty-five thousand more than you put up--" "Nevertheless, it doesn't give you the right to insult the girl." "Insult her! Bah! You're no fool, Boyd. Why did Hilliard advance that loan?" "Because he wanted to, I dare say."