A sort of panic seized Boyd. If his present scheme fell through, what else could he do? Whither could he turn, even for his own livelihood, except back to the hateful isolation of a miner's life? That would mean other years as black as those just ended. There had been a time when he could boldly have taken the bit in his teeth and forced Mr. Wayland to reckon with him, but since his return Mildred herself had withdrawn her consent to a marriage that would mean immediate separation from the life that she loved. That course, therefore, was closed to him. If ever he was to win her, he must play this game of desperate chances to the end. The announcement of dinner interrupted his dismayed reflections, and he walked out in company with Mr. Wayland, who linked arms with him as if to afford Willis Marsh every advantage, fleeting though it might prove. "He is a wonderful fellow," the old gentleman observed, _sotto voce_, indicating Marsh--"one of the keenest business men I ever met." "Yes?" "Indeed, he is. He is a money-maker, too; his associates swear by him. If I were you, my boy, I would study him; he is a good man to imitate." At the dinner-table the talk at first was general, and of a character appropriate for the hour, but Miss Wayland, oddly enough, seemed bent upon leading the discussion back into its former course, and displayed such an unusual thirst for information regarding the North American Packers' Association that her father was moved to remark upon it. "What in the world has come over you, Mildred?" he said. "You never cared to hear about my doings before." "Please don't discourage me," she urged. "I am really in earnest; I should like to know all about this new trust of yours. Perhaps my little universe is growing a bit tiresome to me." "Miss Mildred is truly your daughter," Marsh observed, admiringly. "But I fear the matter doesn't interest Mr. Emerson?" "Oh, indeed it does," Mildred smilingly responded. "Doesn't it, Boyd?" He flushed uncomfortably as he acquiesced. "Now, please tell me more about it," the girl went on. "You know you are both full of the thing, and there are only we four here, so let's be natural; I am dreadfully tired of being conventional." "Tut, tut!" exclaimed her father. "That comes of association with these untamed Westerners." Yet he plainly showed that he was flattered by her unexpected enthusiasm and more than ready to humor her. Both men, in truth, were jubilant, and so thoroughly in tune with the subject which had obsessed them these past months that it took little urging to set them talking in harmony with the girl's wishes. Readily accepting the cue of informality, they grew communicative, and told of the troubles they had encountered in launching the gigantic combination, joking over the obstacles that had threatened to wreck it, and complimenting each other upon their persistence and sagacity.