"If," Mrs. MacGregor emphasized the conjunction, "is one of the first steps toward failure. You could go to Ysleta tomorrow, and sell this whole property, as it stands, for twice the amount we have paid down for it, even including the mortgage of one hundred thousand." Elijah was thinking aloud. "With your four hundred thousand, you could repay your ward in full. You and I would then have one hundred thousand each. I could,--" he paused and then the words shot forth, "replace the fifty thousand I borrowed, and be a free man." Elijah and Mrs. MacGregor were being enlightened as to each other. Mrs. MacGregor had not thought to have Elijah lean so heavily upon her; he had never supposed her to be so cold and heartlessly unprincipled. "We are coming to no conclusion as to our next move." Mrs. MacGregor spoke with polite impatience. "What do you propose?" "We must organize a company." "But we have no charter." "We can get one." "It will take time." "We can make it as short as possible." The matter of the charter was dropped for a time, to be discussed at intervals during the days that followed; but no conclusion was reached. Mrs. MacGregor was scheming; Elijah waiting for guidance. The guidance came, though not in the way Elijah would have chosen; but he was yet to learn that when we make our conditions, guidance is certain to come in the form of a dilemma with an imperative choice. As Mrs. MacGregor and Elijah were again seated on the verandah and again discussing ways and means, a wagon stopped at the door, and from it alighted a brisk, self-sure man. He walked up the path, with a jaunty air and stopped at the foot of the verandah steps. "Hello, Berl," he called out. "Fine place, this." Elijah felt an involuntary tightening around his heart as he recognized Mellin, the ex-cashier of the Pacific bank. He returned the greeting, at the same time rising. "Come up and have a chair." Mellin tipped his hat back on his head, strode up the steps, and seating himself, spread his legs wide apart, and leaning forward with hands loosely clasped, rested his elbows on his knees. "Mrs. MacGregor, Mr. Mellin," Elijah waved his hand from one to the other. "Pleased to know you, Mrs. MacGregor. From the East, I take it?" Mr. Mellin revolved his head jerkily toward his newly made acquaintance, ending with a decided bob. Mrs. MacGregor bowed slightly in return, but vouchsafed no word. Mellin revolved his head toward Elijah, at the same time glancing at his watch which he clicked together and returned to his pocket. "I came to see you on a little business matter, Berl; can I have a few minutes?" Upon this blunt hint that she was not wanted, Mrs. MacGregor rose calmly and swept through the open door. Mr. Mellin drew a huge, black cigar from his pocket, and between initial puffs, outlined his business.