Deringham sat still smoking, and thinking rapidly. He had never had
dealings with a man of this description before, but while he surmised
that Alton of Somasco might under some conditions prove himself a
headstrong fool, it was evident that there were limits to his folly.
The man's handiwork spoke for him, and his energy and intentness had
not escaped Deringham's attentions, while the occasional utterances
that might have appeared bombastic coming from other men were redeemed
in his case by the tone of naive sincerity and imperious ring.
Deringham was becoming conscious of a vague respect for and fear of his
companion.

"We are apparently no nearer the answer to my question," he said at
length.

"No," said Alton, smiling. "This thing will take some thinking over.
Carnaby isn't exactly what you call a rich property?"

"It is heavily encumbered," said Deringham, almost too eagerly.

Alton nodded, "Still, it must be worth a little, and would give the
folks who lived there a standing in the old country?"

"Yes," said Deringham thoughtfully, and was once more astonished by his
companion's answer.

"Well," he said slowly. "I was thinking about your daughter. All
this, it seems to me, is mighty rough on her. It would hurt her to be
turned out of Carnaby?"

"Isn't that beside the question?" said Deringham with a trace of