"Lead the way," said Jim.

"Sir----"

"Lead the way, you powdered nanny-goats!"

Ultimately he arrived at the drawing-room door. He knocked loudly and
entered. Angela was sitting reading. Lady Featherstone was doing likewise,
and His Lordship was standing before the fire with his hands in his
pockets.

"Conlan!" gasped the latter. "How dare you come here?"

Jim fixed his eyes on Angela, who had closed the book and was regarding
him in amazement.

"I've come," he said grimly. "Get your clothes on."

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Featherstone.

"I've come to remove my property," said Jim. "You didn't think I was
hiking to the Klondyke and leaving fifty thousand pounds' worth of
property lying about, did you?"

Featherstone felt the jibe, but he was furious at the intrusion. Jim
turned to Angela.

"I'm waiting," he snapped.

"You'd better go," she reported. "You merely succeed in making a fool of
yourself."

"Oh dear!" moaned Lady Featherstone. "The man is dangerous. Claude, call
John and Henry."

"Yep, call in your tame leopards. Gee--I'm starving for a fight!"

Featherstone, eyeing this six-feet-three of hard knotted muscle, attempted
to bring diplomacy to the rescue.

"Conlan," he pleaded, "I beg you to act reasonably. I understand you are
going to the Klondyke. But you can scarcely expect Angela to accompany you
there. There are certain limits to a wife's marital responsibilities."

Jim's eyes narrowed.

"There ain't no sentiments in business. I bought her for fifty thousand.
I'm not writing off anything for depreciation, cos I allow there ain't no
depreciation, in a material sense. I'm jest hanging on to my property till
I can get a price that leaves a margin of profit--say ten per cent. Make
the bidding and I'll quit."

Nothing was more calculated to arouse Featherstone's unbridled wrath.

"You vulgar cowpuncher!" he retorted. "You dare insult me in that way! You
dare treat my daughter as bag and baggage--to be sold at auction like an
Asiatic slave----!"

"I made the offer," said Jim casually, "because I thought, from
experience, that was your line of business."

"Leave my house!" stormed Featherstone.

"Sartenly. Angela, come on, we ain't wanted."

Angela sat like a statue. Suddenly Jim sprang to action.

"I'm giving you two minutes," he snapped.

"If you ain't ready then I'll carry you out. And if any guy tries buttin'
in, wal----"

Lady Featherstone gave a shriek of terror