“How is everything in Terrace City?” asked Wentworth, as he lighted his cigar.

“Oh, about as usual, I guess.  Been so damned busy getting this paper deal in shape for the last two months that I haven’t had much time to keep track of things.  By the way, you remember Hedin—­that clerk in old John McNabb’s fur department?”

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“Well, old John trusted him to the limit—­made a kind of a pet of him—­and what does the fellow do but slip up to the store one night and steal a Russian sable coat, worth somewhere around thirty thousand.  Then the damned fool, instead of getting out of the country, stayed right on the job.  Of course old John missed the coat next day, and the night watchman told of Hedin’s visit to the store.”

“Did he confess?” asked Wentworth a shade too eagerly.

“Confess nothing!  He swears he’s innocent.  But there’s nothing to it.  They’ve got the goods on him—­everything but the coat.  They can’t find that, and they never will.  I got the story from Hicks, the police chief.  Old John had him arrested and he knocked Hicks down and got away.  They caught him again, and Judge Emerson fixed his bail at ten thousand.  Someone furnished the bail that same night, and Hedin has skipped out, slick and clean.  They sure put one over on McNabb—­ten thousand for bail, twenty thousand to divide between them, and McNabb is holding the bag.”

“And we’ll leave him holding the bag again,” grinned Wentworth.

“That’s what we will.  He’s been a hard man to down.  I don’t mind saying it to you, I’ve laid for him ever since I’ve been in Terrace City, and I’ve never been able to get him.  Several times I’ve thought I had him, but he always managed to wriggle out someway.  But now he seems to have let down all of a sudden.  Either his luck has deserted him, or he has begun to break.”

“You are pretty sure he will not be here to-morrow?”

Orcutt nodded.  “Dead sure.  You were right about his believing that he has till the first of August on those options.  I overheard him telling Bronson on the golf links that he had to be in Canada on August first, and that he would leave about the middle of July.”

XIX

After breakfast on the morning of the first of July, Orcutt and Cameron repaired to the cabin where, with the rough pine table littered with maps, they discussed the terms and conditions of the contract of sale.  While Wentworth, palpably nervous, paced the clearing; his eyes were upon the trails that led into the forest, and out upon the lake, for a sign of a canoe from the southward.

When at last the pros and cons had all been threshed over, clauses inserted, and clauses struck out, Orcutt drew from his pocket a heavy gold watch, and snapping it open, detached it from its chain and laid it upon the table between them.  “Half past eleven,” he announced.  “I suppose you insist upon waiting until the uttermost minute ticks to its close.”