“But suppose,” she persisted, “that the real builder of the road should prove to be Bryce Cardigan, after all. What would you do?”
Colonel Pennington's eyes twinkled. “I greatly fear, my dear, I should make a noise like something doing.”
“In that event the Laguna Grande Lumber Company wouldn't be any worse off than it is at present. The principal loser, as I view the situation, would be Miss Shirley Sumner, who has the misfortune to be loaded up with Cardigan bonds. And as for Bryce Cardigan--well, that young man would certainly know he'd been through a fight.”
“I wonder if he'll fight to the last, Uncle Seth.”
“Why, I believe he will,” Pennington replied soberly.
“Shirley! Why, my dear, you're growing ferocious.” Her uncle's tones were laden with banter, but his countenance could not conceal the pleasure her last remark had given him.
“Why not? I have something at stake, have I not?”
“Then you really want me to smash him?” The Colonel's voice proclaimed his incredulity.
“You got me into this fight by buying Cardigan bonds for me,” she replied meaningly, “and I look to you to save the investment or as much of it as possible; for certainly, if it should develop that the Cardigans are the real promoters of the N.C.O., to permit them to go another half-million dollars into debt in a forlorn hope of saving a company already top-heavy with indebtedness wouldn't savor of common business sense. Would it?”
The Colonel rose hastily, came around the table, and kissed her paternally. “My dear,” he murmured, “you're such a comfort to me. Upon my word, you are.”
“I'm so glad you have explained the situation to me, Uncle Seth.”
“I would have explained it long ago had I not cherished a sneaking suspicion that--er--well, that despite everything, young Cardigan might--er--influence you against your better judgment and--er--mine.”
He shrugged. “One must figure every angle of a possible situation, my dear, and I should hesitate to start something with the Cardigans, and have you, because of foolish sentiment, call off my dogs.”
Shirley thrust out her adorable chin aggressively. “Sick 'em. Tige!” she answered. “Shake 'em up, boy!”
“You bet I'll shake 'em up,” the Colonel declared joyously. He paused with a morsel of food on his fork and waved the fork at her aggressively. “You stimulate me into activity, Shirley. My mind has been singularly dull of late; I have worried unnecessarily, but now that I know you are with me, I am inspired. I'll tell you how we'll fix this new railroad, if it exhibits signs of being dangerous.” Again he smote the table. “We'll sew 'em up tighter than a new buttonhole.”