Your class has enemies always in a new country
--jealousy, envy."
The lean, aristocratic, angular Crozier, with a musing look on his long
face, grown ascetic again, as he held out his hand and gripped that of
the other, said warmly: "I'm just as much obliged to you as though I took
your advice, Sibley. I am not taking it, but I am taking a pledge to
return the compliment to you if ever I get the chance."
"Well, most men get chances of that kind," was the gratified reply of the
gambling farmer, and then Crozier turned quickly and entered the doorway
of the British Bank, the rival of that from which he had turned in brave
disappointment a little while before.
Left alone in the street, Sibley looked back with the instinct of the
hunter. As he expected, he saw a head thrust out from the window where
Studd Bradley and his friends had been. There was an hotel opposite the
British Bank. He entered and waited. Bradley and one of his companions
presently came in and seated themselves far back in the shadow, where
they could watch the doorway of the bank.
It was quite a half-hour before Shiel Crozier emerged from the bank. His
face was set and pale. For an instant he stood as though wondering which
way to go, then he moved up the street the way he had come.
Sibley heard a low, poisonous laugh of triumph rankle through the hotel
office. He turned round.
Pages:
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47