He might misconstrue my
motive--oh, you understand, don't you? I'm sure I'm in an extremely
delicate position."
He nodded sagely. "Nevertheless," he pursued, "he _will_ be under
obligation to you."
"He will never know it. I depend upon you to keep my secret. He will
think himself under obligation to you--and you're such an old and dear
friend. Men accept obligations from each other and think nothing of
it. By the way, I hold you responsible for the return of that fifty
thousand dollars, not Don Mike Farrel. You are underwriting his battle
with my father, are you not?"
"Yes, I am," he retorted briskly, "and I've got more conceit than a
barber's cat for daring to do it. Wait a minute and I'll give you my
promissory note. I'm paying seven per cent for bank accommodations
lately. That rate of interest suit you?"
She nodded and followed him to his office, where he laboriously wrote
and signed a promissory note in her favor. Pablo, remaining politely
out of sound of their conversation, wondered vaguely what they were up
to.
"Don Mike has told us something of the indolent, easy-going natures of
his people," Kay continued, as she tucked the note in her coat pocket.
"I have wondered if, should, he succeed in saving his ranch without too
great an expenditure of effort, he would continue to cast off the spell
of 'the splendid, idle forties' and take his place in a world of alert
creators and producers.
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