Chapter XV. The Doors of the Vault Swing Shut

"I say, old man, just how do we stack up?" questioned Alton Clyde, when, later in the week, he had succeeded in pinning Boyd down for a moment's conversation. "Blessed if I know what's going on."

"Well, we're up against it."

"How?"

"That newspaper story started it." Emerson's teeth snapped angrily, and Clyde's colorless eyes shifted. "Fraser let his tongue wag, and immediately the banks closed up on me. I've tried every one in this city, in Tacoma, in Vancouver, and in Victoria, but it seems that they have all been advised of war in the canning business. Our ship was taken away from us, and although I have found another, I'm afraid to charter it until I see my way out. Then there have been delays in various shipments--boilers, tin, lumber, and all that. I haven't worried you with half the details; but George and I have forgotten what a night's rest looks like. Now Bloc & Company are trying to get out of their contract to take our output." Emerson sighed heavily and sank deeper into his chair, his weariness of mind and body betrayed by his utter relaxation. "I guess we are done for. I'm about all in."

"Glory be!" exclaimed the dapper little club-man, with a comical furrow of care upon his brow. "When you give up, it is quitting time."

"I haven't given up; I am doing all I can, but things are in a diabolical tangle. Some of our supplies are here; others are laid out on the road; some seem to be utterly lost. We have had to make substitutions of machinery, our bills are overdue, and--but what's the use! We need money. That's the crux of the whole affair. When Hilliard balked, he threw the whole proposition."

"And I'm stung for ten thou," reflected Clyde, lugubriously. "Ten thousand drops of my heart's red blood! Good Lord! I'm a fierce business man. Say! I ought to be the purchasing agent for the Farmers' Alliance; gold bricks are my specialty. I haven't won a bet since the battle of Bull Run."

"What about the twenty-five thousand dollars that you raised?" Emerson asked.

Clyde began to laugh, shrilly. "That's painfully funny. I hadn't thought about that."

"The situation may be remarkable, but I don't see anything humorous in it," said Emerson, dryly.

"Oh, you would if you only knew, but I can't tell you what it is. You see, I promised not to divulge where the money came from, and when I give my word I'm a regular Sphinx. But it's funny." After an instant he said, in all seriousness: "If Hilliard holds the combination to this thing, why don't you have Cherry help us?"

"Cherry! How can she help?"

"She can do anything she wants with him."

"What do you mean?"

"I may be a heavy autumn frost as a