You are simply to hover around, ignore me, and then skilfully shadow my pursuers." The service of the Western Trading Company now galled Randall Clayton like the galley slave's chain.

And yet Jack Witherspoon's counsel had been most wise.

For Clayton knew not who had replaced the treacherous Ferris in that secret espionage, so necessary to Worthington until the great "deal" had been consummated.
"Lies, lies, all lies," muttered Clayton, as he read the friendly, almost fatherly, letters of Hugh Worthington announcing his intended tour around the world.

"The old fox," sneered Clayton, as he read the "rider" to the capitalist's letter.
"Ferris will have my power of attorney, and he alone will communicate with me.

If Alice's health demands it, I may vary my route and look around in the Sierras, or take the summer run to Alaska.