with that mine myself before twelve o'clock to-morrow.'

'Ah, it is my turn to be grateful now!' said Longworth. 'In a
rough-and-tumble fight I am afraid you would master me easier than you
would do in a contest of diplomacy.'

'Do you call it diplomacy? You refer, I suppose, to your action in
relation to the mine. I call it robbery.'

'Oh, do you? Well, that is the kind of conversation which leads to
breaches of the peace; and as I also am a law-abiding subject, I will
not continue the discussion any further. I bid you a very good evening,
Mr. Kenyon.'

The young man turned on his heel and went into the hotel. John walked to
his own much more modest inn, and retired for the night. He did not sleep
well. All night long, phantom telegraph-messengers were rapping at the
door, and he started up every now and then to receive cablegrams which
faded away as he awoke. Shortly after breakfast he went to the
telegraph-office, but found that nothing had arrived for him.

'I am afraid,' said the operator, 'that nothing will come on before
noon.'

'Before noon!' echoed John. 'Why?'

'The wires are down in some places in the East, and messages are delayed
a good deal. Perhaps you noticed the lack of Eastern news in the morning
papers? Very little news came from the East last night.' Seeing John's
look of anxious interest, the operator continued: 'Does the despatch you