CHAPTER III

FOSTER TOO

The apartment Tisdale called home was in a high corner of the Alaska building, where the western windows, overtopping other stone and brick blocks of the business center, commanded the harbor, caught like a faceted jewel between Duwamish Head and Magnolia Bluff, and a far sweep of the outer Sound set in wooded islands and the lofty snow peaks of the Olympic peninsula.  Next to his summer camp in the open he liked this eyrie, and particularly he liked it at this hour of the night tide.  He drew his chair forward where the stiff, salt wind blew full in his face, but Foster, who had found the elevator not running and was somewhat heated by his long climb to the “summit,” took the precaution of choosing a sheltered place near the north window, which was closed.  A shaded electric lamp cast a ring of light on the package he had laid on the table between them, but the rest of the room was in shadow, and from his seat he glanced down on the iridescent sign displays of Second Avenue, then followed the lines of street globes trailing away to the brilliant constellations set against the blackness of Queen Anne hill.

“She is to be out of town a week,” he said, “and I hardly liked to leave Weatherbee’s things with a hotel clerk; since I am sailing on the Admiral Sampson tonight, I brought the package back.  You will have to be your own messenger.”

“That’s all right, Foster; I can find another when she returns.  I’ll ask Banks.”

“No.”  Foster’s glance came back from the street; his voice rang a little sharp.  “Take it yourself, Hollis.”

“I can trust it with Banks.”  Tisdale paused a moment, still looking out on the harbor lights and the stars, then said:  “So you are going north again; back to the copper mine, I presume?”

“No, I shall be there later, but I expect to make a quick trip in to the Iditarod now, to look over placer properties.  The syndicate has bonded Banks’ claims and, if it is feasible, a dredger will be sent in next spring to begin operations on a big scale.  I shall go, of course, by way of the Yukon, and if ice comes early and the steamers are taken off, return by trail around through Fairbanks.”

“I see.”  Tisdale leaned forward a little, grasping the arms of his chair.  “The syndicate is taking considerable risk in sending you to the Iditarod at this time.  Suppose those coal cases should be called, with you winter-bound up there.  Why, the Chugach trial couldn’t go on.”

“I am identified with the Morganstein interests there, I admit; but why should the Chugach claims be classed with conspiracies to defraud the Government?  They were entered regularly, fifty coal claims of one hundred and sixty acres each, by as many different persons.  Because the President temporarily suspended Alaska coal laws is no reason those patents should be refused or even delayed.  Our money was accepted by the Government; it was never refunded.”