later I was at work.  Over here”—­he leaned over Gregson’s shoulder and placed a forefinger on the map—­“I established our headquarters, with MacDougall, a Scotch engineer, to help me.  Within six months we had a hundred and fifty men at Blind Indian Lake, fifty canoemen bringing in supplies, and another gang putting in stations over a stretch of more than a hundred miles of lake country.  Everything was working smoothly, better than I had expected.  At Blind Indian Lake we had a shipyard, two warehouses, ice-houses, a company store, and a population of three hundred, and had nearly completed a ten-mile roadbed for narrow-gauge steel, which would connect us with the main line when it came up to us.  I was completely lost in my work.  At times I almost forgot Brokaw and the others.  I was particularly careful of the funds sent up to me, and had accomplished my work at a cost of a little under a hundred thousand.  At the end of the six months, when I was about to make a visit into the south, one of our warehouses and ten thousand dollars’ worth of supplies went up in smoke.  It was our first misfortune, and it was a big one.  It was about the first matter that I brought up after I had shaken hands with Brokaw.”

Philip’s face was set and white as he stood in the middle of the room looking at Gregson.

“And what do you think was his reply, Greggy?  He looked at me for a moment, a peculiar twitching around the corners of his mouth, and then said, ’Don’t allow a trivial matter like that to worry you, Philip.  Why—­we’ve already cleaned up a million on this little fish deal!’”

Gregson sat up with a jerk.

“A million!  Great Scott—­”

“Yes, a million, Greggy,” said Philip, softly, with his old fighting smile.  “There was a hundred thousand dollars to my credit in a First National Bank.  Pleasant surprise, eh?”

Gregson had dropped his cigarette.  His slim hands gripped the edges of the table.  He made no reply as he waited for Whittemore to continue.

III

For a full minute Philip paced back and forth without speaking.  Then he stopped, and faced Gregson, who was staring at him.

“A million, Greggy,” he repeated, in the same soft voice.  “A hundred thousand dollars to my credit—­in a First National Bank!  While I was up here hustling to get affairs on a working basis, eager to show the government and the people what we could do and would do, triumphing in our victory over the trust, and figuring each day on my scheme of making this big, rich north deal a staggering blow to those accursed combinations down there, they were at work, too.  While I was dreaming and doing these things, Brokaw and the others had formed the Great Northern Fish and Development Company, had incorporated it under the laws of New Jersey, and had already sold over a million dollars’ worth of stock!  The thing was in full swing when I reached headquarters.