For the Allinson Honor

"When I got your letter the matter seemed serious enough to require my personal attention."

"You may tell me what you think," said Andrew, "and I'll consider it carefully."

"To begin with, why did you give Mappin notice to terminate his contract?"

"It seemed the best thing to be done in the shareholders' interest."

There was something impressive in Andrew's tone. Leonard knew that a conflict, which he wished to avoid, was imminent.

"I won't mince matters," he replied. "You have no business experience and know nothing about mining. You have acted rashly. I made the arrangements with Mappin and considered them satisfactory."

"I'm sorry to hear it. I wish it had been somebody less closely connected with Allinson's who concluded the deal with him. The man's making a good thing out of his contract at the Company's expense."

"You mustn't be hypercritical. Opportunities for picking up a few dollars are often attached to operations like ours, and its wiser to let one's friends have them and look for favors in return. Besides, the man does his work well."

"No," corrected Andrew, "he does it badly, with a cool assurance that no fault will be found and we'll pass his bills. In fact, for the firm to take any favors from him would savor of corruption. In the end, the shareholders would have to pay for them."

"Be careful," Leonard warned him. "You may cause a good deal of trouble without doing any good. Remember that you're only here on trial and accountable to the rest of the directors. If necessary, the power you're overstraining could be withdrawn."

"I think not," said Andrew. "In a sense, I'm Allinson's; it would be a difficult matter to get rid of me. I have neglected my duties, but it's not too late to make a change."

Leonard paused to light a cigarette. He had been met with a firmness he had not expected, and he realized that Andrew might prove a formidable antagonist.

"Very well," he conceded, "if you insist on our giving no more work to Mappin, I suppose he must be sacrificed, though you place me in an unpleasant position. After all, he's comparatively unimportant; we must talk about the mine. You seem to think it ought to be closed, which is out of the question for the present. You have, no doubt, learned that it often takes time to reach payable ore; all sorts of preliminary difficulties have to be overcome, and investors have frequently to exercise patience and put up with disappointments."

"You promised a good dividend in the prospectus."

"We didn't promise it on the first six months' working. Besides, one makes allowances for prospectus statements."

"It shouldn't be needful where Allinson's is concerned. But what do you suggest?"

"That we keep the mine open, and do everything possible to increase the output and strike better ore. In the meanwhile, we won't say too much about our troubles."

"When you increase the output you increase expenses. This doesn't matter so long as the refined metal will pay for it, but it's a ruinous policy where the ore's no good. Then, you can't hide our difficulties. The shareholders will expect a dividend, and if it isn't forthcoming they'll demand an explanation at their meeting."

"That might be prevented. The family vote could be relied on, and it's often possible to control a meeting and silence objectors. These are matters you can leave to me."

"The objectors have a right to be heard; they could be silenced only by trickery. If we have made a mistake, we must admit it and consider how we can cut the loss."

"Admit our mistake?" Leonard laughed. "You're talking at random."

Andrew leaned forward, his eyes fixed on his brother-in-law.

"This Company should never have been floated. We'll let it go at that: the less said upon the point the better. The question is – what is to be done now? Well, I've decided on two things – we'll keep a few men working at the mine, because the yield will cover their wages, while I go into the bush and look for a richer lode I've heard about. If I'm successful, we'll consider the new situation."

Seeing that objections would be useless, Leonard reluctantly acquiesced, and it was a relief to both when Wannop came in.

"There's a friend of yours asking for you, Andrew; I brought him up," he explained, and stood aside as Frobisher entered.

"I came to ask you over for a day or two, and I shall be glad if your relatives will come as well," he said. "We have plenty of room and have been rather dull lately. Besides, the hotel is too full to be comfortable."

After some demur they agreed to go, and Andrew felt grateful to Frobisher, for the visit would relieve the strain that Leonard's society threatened to impose on him. Half an hour later they took their places in Frobisher's sleigh.

CHAPTER XIII

LOVE'S ENCOURAGEMENT

It was after dinner and Wannop, lounging comfortably over his cigar in Frobisher's smoking-room, smiled at Andrew, who sat opposite.

"This is a very nice house and I like your friend," he commented. "It's lucky he invited us, because I don't know how they'd have put us up at the hotel."

"What brought you over with Leonard?" Andrew asked bluntly.

"Gertrude wanted to make some visits this winter, which set me free. I've never been much away from home, and it struck me as a good chance for seeing Canada; then Jack Cartwright – you may remember him – is in Toronto. It's twelve years since I've met him, though he has often urged me to come over; and there's another man I know in Winnipeg."

"I wonder whether that was all?"

Wannop looked amused. He was stout and clumsy, but he had his jovial air.

"You seem to have been getting smarter since you came to Canada," he said. "Perhaps I'd better admit that I was anxious to see how you were getting on."

"Didn't Leonard tell you?"

"Leonard was as guarded and diplomatic as usual. He informed us that there had been some trouble at the mine and he was afraid you hadn't experience enough to deal with the situation. Then he gave us the impression that you were inclined to be rash and might make a mess of things unless he came over and put you right."

"Ah!" exclaimed Andrew; "I expected something of the sort."

They looked at each other with mutual comprehension.

"Can matters be straightened out?" Wannop asked.

"Not in the few days that Leonard intends to devote to it. It's most unlikely that the Rain Bluff will ever pay."

"I'm sorry to hear it. A good deal of my money and Gertrude's has gone into the mine."

"You needn't be alarmed. I don't think the shareholders will suffer."

Andrew's tone was impressive, and Wannop looked at him sharply.

"That doesn't seem to agree with your last remark."

"I've a plan for working a richer lode, but I can't tell you anything further, because the secret belongs to another man until the minerals have been recorded; and it wouldn't be fair to Leonard and the directors, who haven't been consulted about the project yet. When my plans are ready, they will be disclosed. Perhaps I'm straining your confidence."

"It will stand some strain. But are you sure that Leonard will be fair to you?"

"That is another matter," Andrew said quietly.

"Well, I'm glad you have told me something: it gives me a lead. It was obvious that you and Leonard were at variance. In fact, I've foreseen a split for some time, and if a side must be taken, I'd rather stand by you."