"Mr. Henry Alton?" he said.

"Yes," said the other quietly.

There was a moment's embarrassing silence, for Alton said nothing
further, and Deringham gazed at the man he had journeyed three thousand
miles to see.

"I should like a little talk with you," he said presently.

"Can't oblige you," said the other. "I couldn't spare more than a
minute now for a railroad director. You can tell me anything you want
after supper."

Deringham lost a little of his usual serenity. "My business is of some
importance," he said.

Alton smiled grimly. "I can't help that. So is mine," said he. "A
lawyer, by the stamp of you. Well, you're trailing the wrong man,
because I don't owe anybody money. We'll put you up to-night, and you
can look for him to-morrow."

"I have come from Carnaby, England," said Deringham, watching the
effect upon the man. "You are, I presume the grandson of its late
owner."

This shot got home, but the effect was not altogether what Deringham
had anticipated, for Alton's big hands tightened on the axe and his
face grew very stern. "I'm not proud of the connection, anyway," he