"Nobody sent me," Joseph replied. "I am a stranger, taking a look at the oil country. I have never before been in this part of the State."
"May I ask your name?"
"Asten," said Joseph, unthinkingly.
"Asten! I think I know where that name belongs. Let me see."
The man. pulled out a large dirty envelope from his breast-pocket, ran over several papers, unfolded one, and presently asked,—
"Joseph Asten?"
"Yes." (Joseph set his teeth, and silently cursed his want of forethought.) "Proprietor of ten thousand dollars' worth of stock in the Amaranth! Who sent you here?"
His tone, though meant to be calm, was fierce and menacing. Joseph rose, scanned the faces of the workmen, who listened with a malicious curiosity, and finally answered, with a candor which seemed to impress, while it evidently disappointed the questioner:—
"No one sent me, and no one, beyond my own family, knows that I am here. I am a farmer, not a speculator. I was induced to take the stock from representations which have not been fulfilled, and which, I am now convinced, never will be fulfilled. My habit is, when I cannot get the truth from others, to ascertain it for myself. I presume you are Mr. Kanuck?"
The man did not answer immediately, but the quick, intelligent glance of one of the workmen showed Joseph that his surmise was correct. Mr. Kanuck conversed apart with the men, apparently giving private orders, and then said, with a constrained civility:—
