in race with Lyman Howarth.' How would that look?"
Ellen smiled at him for his little struggle with himself.
"You know I'm not with Ken Howarth just for business. You know I enjoyed that sail," he said seriously to her. "Lord, I love it! I'd rather sail than do anything of the sort—especially sail a race—but I'm certainly there for business, too.
"I was thinking, lying on my back and absorbing some of this burn, whether any of the cargo boats cleaned up as much in a month as I hope to make, for the firm, out of the Arletta? They certainly should have dropped me at some strictly commercial pier in the river; they ought never to have brought me back to Belmont Harbor.
"I made my calls to-day; but honestly I couldn't work up much interest in them. What's my record? On office calls, a washout. Fact is, I've done just one important thing—I played golf with Phil Metten at Tryston; and I've got just one good prospect—from the fact that I'm sailing, on Sundays, with Ken Howarth and his cousin comes on for the race. Isn't that it?"
"That's it," said Ellen, but she was thinking of the race.
"You know," he stirred toward her, "you know I really believe something considerable will come from Howarth; something big enough, maybe, to save us. It can't come quick or if we ask for it—nothing could kill our chance deader—but if we take time and let it come, we'll get it, I believe.
"But, by heavens, we have to have time and hold on to Lew Alban. The Howarths, however they like us, never will throw their business to a firm losing Alban after Metten and headed for the rocks. Will they?"
