“Yes,” answered Cameron.  “McNabb’s options hold good until twelve o’clock.”

“I am anxious to get back,” said Orcutt, offering his cigar case, “but I don’t want to return without having a look at the mill site.  How far is it from here?”

“About forty miles.  If you leave here right after noon you will make it before noon to-morrow.”

“I’ll do it, and return the following day.”

The two men smoked with their eyes upon the minute hand that slowly crept toward twelve.  Now and then Cameron’s glance strayed through the window toward the trading post, as though he half expected to see John McNabb step to its door.

“Twelve o’clock!” announced Orcutt, in a voice that held a ring of triumph.  “And I don’t mind telling you that, sure as I was that McNabb would not be here, I am breathing easier now than I was two minutes ago.”

Leaning forward, Cameron verified the announcement, and dipping the pen in ink, he signed the contract and passed the instrument across to Orcutt, who hastily affixed his signature.  Then from the fat bundle upon which his elbow had rested, the banker removed the wrapping and counted out three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in gold certificates of five- and ten-thousand dollar denominations.  Cameron recounted, and receipted for the money, and after depositing it in his pocket he extended his hand.  “I congratulate you, Mr. Orcutt, upon your purchase, and trust that you have launched upon an enterprise that will prove immensely profitable to yourself and your associates.  But for the life of me, I cannot understand McNabb’s failure to put in an appearance.”

Orcutt’s eyes flashed.  “Nor can I, except on the theory that he is breaking—­losing his grip on affairs.  For years we have been business rivals, and for years I have tried to get the upper hand of him, but until this moment I have always failed.  It will be a different story from now on,” he added vindictively.  “Never again will he have the old confidence, the nerve and sureness that has been his chief asset.  John McNabb is done.  But I’m wasting time.  I should right now be on my way to the mill site.”

“You will wait for dinner?”

“No.  We can eat as we travel,” he answered impatiently.  “Good-by!” And stepping to the door, he called to Wentworth and the guides and plainclothes-men who waited beside the door.

“Come on!  We strike out at once for the mill site.  The deal is closed, and we’re wasting time.  We’ve got a forty mile hike ahead of us!  We’ll snatch a lunch later.  By the way, Cameron, you may not be here when I return, so I will inform you now that until further notice Mr. Wentworth will be our accredited representative in the field.  If anything should come up that needs my attention, take it up with him.”

“Just put it on paper, Mr. Orcutt,” advised the canny Scot, and with a show of impatience Orcutt scribbled the memorandum.