"That was an exceptional case."
"It was the usual case. But take one nearer home. Take Las Flores."
"Don Vincente is not in trouble, is he?" asked the Colonel, quickly.
"Of course he is in trouble. But this is of course confidential, between us as friends. Las Flores has been mortgaged and re-mortgaged until it is like a full bucket, it will not hold a single drop more. I am afraid we shall have to foreclose on at least part of it to protect ourselves."
"Surely you would not do that!" cried the Colonel.
"No, I would not do that. But perhaps the bank must, and I shall have to order it because I am president. I must protect my stockholders against great and actual loss, no matter how reluctant I may be personally. I have let this go longer, much longer than I should even now. You must believe that."
"Of course I do; of course I do," said the Colonel, obviously much distressed. "But Don Vincente—Las Flores—how much is on it?"
"A very large amount. I am not quite at liberty to tell you. If he could begin to keep up his interest I might have been able to face the directors in his behalf with some assurance, but he is twelve thousand dollars behind on that, or will be by the first of the month."
"Well, well, I am sorry to hear that," murmured the Colonel, his brows knit. He was looking on the floor, studying hard over the situation, and only half heard the rest of the banker's remarks.
"That is why I cannot advance the sum you want for the Fremont Hotel. It should be able to carry itself. It is not so much business as friendship. I would rather see you sell something outright than borrow, no matter how well able you are to carry further loans."
"You advise me to sell something? What kind of banking advice is that? What is a bank for?"
"It is very unusual banking advice," admitted Mills frankly, "but it is offered from a friendly and not a business point of view. I would like to see you clean up there at the Fremont
