Gregor had not thought to have Elijah lean so heavily upon her; he
had never supposed her to be so cold and heartlessly unprincipled.

"We are coming to no conclusion as to our next move." Mrs. MacGregor
spoke with polite impatience.

"What do you propose?"

"We must organize a company."

"But we have no charter."

"We can get one."

"It will take time."

"We can make it as short as possible."

The matter of the charter was dropped for a time, to be discussed at
intervals during the days that followed; but no conclusion was reached.
Mrs. MacGregor was scheming; Elijah waiting for guidance. The guidance
came, though not in the way Elijah would have chosen; but he was yet to
learn that when we make our conditions, guidance is certain to come in
the form of a dilemma with an imperative choice.

As Mrs. MacGregor and Elijah were again seated on the verandah and again
discussing ways and means, a wagon stopped at the door, and from it
alighted a brisk, self-sure man. He walked up the path, with a jaunty
air and stopped at the foot of the verandah steps.

"Hello, Berl," he called out. "Fine place, this."

Elijah felt an involuntary tightening around his heart as he recognized
Mellin, the ex-cashier of the Pacific bank. He returned the greeting, at
the same time rising.

"Come up and have a chair."

Mellin tipped his hat back on his head, strode up the steps, and seating
himself, spread his legs wide apart, and leaning forward with hands
loosely clasped, rested his elbows on his knees.

"Mrs. MacGregor, Mr. Mellin," Elijah waved his hand from one to the
other.

"Pleased to know you, Mrs. MacGregor. From the East, I take it?" Mr.
Mellin revolved his head jerkily toward his newly made acquaintance,
ending with a decided bob.

Mrs. MacGregor bowed slightly in return, but vouchsafed no word.

Mellin revolved his head toward Elijah, at the same time glancing at his
watch which he clicked together and returned to his pocket.

"I came to see you on a little business matter, Berl; can I have a few
minutes?"

Upon this blunt hint that she was not wanted, Mrs. MacGregor rose calmly
and swept through the open door.

Mr. Mellin drew a huge, black cigar from his pocket, and between initial
puffs, outlined his business.

"Hear you've been taking up a little land deal on your own account?" The
cigar was well under way now and Mr. Mellin braced himself upright with
one hand on the arm of his chair. His face was ful