It's been a hard trip on her, Phil, and she
hasn't slept for two consecutive nights since we left Halifax."
Philip's keen glance told him that Brokaw himself had not slept
much. The promoter's eyes were heavy, with little puffy bags under
them. But otherwise he betrayed no signs of unrest or lack of
rest. He motioned Philip to a chair close to a huge fireplace in
which a pile of birch was leaping into flame, offered him a cigar,
and plunged immediately into business.
"It's hell, Philip," he said, in a hard, quiet voice, as though he
were restraining an outburst of passion with effort. "In another
three months we'd have been on a working basis, earning dividends.
I've even gone to the point of making contracts that show us five
hundred per cent, profit. And now--this!"
He dashed his half-burned cigar into the fire, and viciously bit
the end from another.
Philip was lighting his own, and there was a moment's silence,
broken sharply by the financier.
"Are your men prepared to fight?"
"If it's necessary," replied Philip. "We can at least depend upon
a part of them, especially the men at Blind Indian Lake. But--this
fighting--Why do you think it will come to that? If there is
fighting we are ruined.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101