Part 44 (1/2)

”I should like to have been with you.” The tone was non-committal.

”Strange to say I like to see people in that frame of mind. It makes for optimism. Will his new effort, you think, stand on its own legs?”

”Yes; always providing nothing interferes. I've seen the first half. It's more than good. It's excellent. You're in it, distinct as life, by the way.”

Roberts lit a cigar and smoked for a minute in silence.

”I'm sorry, sincerely, that I'm there,” he said then. He gazed at his companion steadily, and with a significance Randall never forgot. ”I used to fancy I wasn't afraid of anything. I'm not afraid of most things,--dynamite or nitro-glycerine or murderous fanatics or physical pain; but in the last year I've learned there's one thing on earth, one person, I'm afraid of--deathly afraid. You know who?”

”Yes.”

”I predicted once he would make good. I believed it then. Since I've been alone a good deal and had much time to think, and question. That's why I am afraid.” Roberts paused to smoke, seemingly impa.s.sive. ”I'd give every cent I have in the world and start anew to-morrow without breakfast if I could only know, only know to a certainty that he would keep his grip.

But will he?... I'm afraid!”

Scarcely knowing what he did, Randall lit a cigar in turn and smoked like a furnace. His tongue attempted to form an a.s.surance, but try as he might he could not give it voice. Once he had promised not to lie to that man opposite, ever; and in the depths of his own soul he knew that he, too, was afraid. At last, in self-confessed rout, he voiced the commonplace.

”It's my turn to ask questions now, I think,” he said. ”Are you back to stay?”

Roberts looked up, only half comprehending; he roused himself.

”No. I intend to close out everything. I doubt if I ever stay anywhere permanently again. I'll keep the house here, though.”

”You've decided not to sell it--even to me?”

Roberts paused.

”Yes,” he said at last; but he offered no explanation.

Randall waited, hoping for a lead whereby light might come. But none opened, and the subject dropped.

”I judge the mine's making good,” he commented, with the trace of awkwardness he always felt when approaching the other's personal affairs.

”Will you return soon?”

”Probably not soon.” The voice was almost listless. ”I put everything in shape for an indefinite absence before I came away. To answer your question: It's a wonder, bigger than I ever hoped. It'll still be a great mine a generation from now.”

Randall caught his breath. The big game was yet new to him, and the volume of wealth suggested was c.u.mulatively overpowering.

”Bigger than you expected!” he echoed. ”Then that means--millions!”

Roberts glanced at his companion curiously. Slowly he smiled.

”Yes,” he said, ”it means millions. I haven't even an idea how many eventually.” The smile left his face, every trace of expression as well.

”I could sell for ten to-day if I wished; but I have no intention of selling.”

Randall sat looking at the other as if hypnotized. He forgot to ask questions, forgot almost to breathe. To read of gigantic fortunes, the property of absolute strangers living a thousand or thousands of miles away, is one thing: to have one personally known, an actual acquaintance in possession--it held him speechless, staring. The other's familiar, tolerant laugh aroused him.

”Don't, please,” said Roberts. ”They've been doing that to me wherever I show myself and write my name; that is, when they haven't been proving relations.h.i.+p.” He laughed again shortly. ”It's wonderful how many relatives I've discovered of late and friends I've made. Don't do it, please.”