"We get nothing of value without a price," he said quietly. "Except by
rare accident, nothing that's worth having comes cheap and easy. We've
paid the price, and we're square with the world and with each other.
That's everything."
"Are you completely ruined, Jack?" she asked after an interval. "Charlie
said you were."
"Well," he answered reflectively, "I haven't had time to balance
accounts, but I guess I will be. The timber's gone. I've saved most of
the logging gear. But if I realized on everything that's left, and
squared up everything, I guess I'd be pretty near strapped."
"Will you take me in as a business partner, Jack?" she asked eagerly.
"That's what I had in mind when I came up here. I made up my mind to
propose that, after I'd heard you were ruined. Oh, it seems silly now,
but I wanted to make amends that way; at least, I tried to tell myself
that. Listen. When my father died, he left some supposedly worthless oil
stock. But it proved to have a market value. I got my share of it the
other day. It'll help us to make a fresh start--together."
She had the envelope and the check tucked inside her waist. She took it
out now and pressed the green slip into his hand.
Fyfe looked at it and at her, a little chuckle deep in his throat.
"Nineteen thousand, five hundred," he laughed. "Well, that's quite a
stake for you. But if you go partners with me, what about your singing?"
"I don't see how I can have my cake and eat it, too," she said lightly.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313