“Very well, don’t you see they have nearly twelve months during which they can still further press down your stock. The bank will tire of holding what they consider worthless securities, and unless your father can get enough money to redeem all that he has placed in the bank, this five thousand will not even prove a stop-gap.” “I don’t agree with your lordship. You see, I shall now keep hammering away on my side. I shall print my report, and post it to every big financier in the city. I shall tell the whole sordid story of this syndicate’s action.” “People won’t believe you, Mackeller.” “A great many will not, but several may, and these will say ‘The stock is so cheap, we might as well take a flutter on a quantity of it.’ Then the members of the syndicate are shrewd enough to know that they will excite curiosity, and that some other engineer may be sent out to the property. No, I am convinced that if they do not manage to ruin my father before the end of next week, they will never risk what they now know to be a valuable property by letting its shares lie round loose for anyone to pick up.” “Ah, you are optimistic, I see. That’s because you have been out in the open so much, instead of haunting your father’s office.” At this moment the arrival of the automobile was announced, and his lordship rose slowly to his feet. “I’m going to give you a lift as far as your father’s office, and I want you to introduce him to me. I have been looking at this question merely from the mining engineer’s standpoint. I should like to know what the city point of view is, and that I shall get from your father, if he is the honest man you say he is. So we will run down into the city together. I suppose the sooner my check is in your bank the better.” “Yes, the bank opens at ten, and it is past that hour now.” “We have taken a little more than our ten minutes,” said his lordship, beaming on his guest with that inane smile of his, as they stepped together into the tonneau of a very large red automobile, which was soon humming eastward. Into the private room of the stockbroker, Mac-keller ushered Lord Stranleigh of Wychwood, and there they found at his desk a rugged-faced, white-haired, haggard-looking man, who glanced up at them with lowering brows. “I’ve got five thousand pounds,” said the son at once. “Then run with it to the bank.” “I will, as soon as I have introduced to you Lord Stranleigh of Wychwood. Your lordship will excuse me, I am sure.” “Oh, yes. I stipulated for your absence, you remember, because I do not in the least rely upon your plan,” but the young man had departed before his lordship’s sentence was finished. The elder Mackeller looked intently at the newcomer. Being offered a chair, his lordship sat down. “Is it from you that my son got the money?” “Yes.” “If you did not believe in his plan, why did you give him the cash?”