ON THE WRONG TRAIL.

For a moment Mr. Jordan made no reply. But he stared at his employer with eyes so full of horror that his sincerity was very evident.

“I sell the secret to others!” he exclaimed, at last. “Why, it would ruin me. Do you accuse me of being a fool, sir, as well as a scoundrel?”

“All scoundrels are fools,” returned Mr. Williams, dryly. “But, if you have not sold the secret to the Englishmen, please explain to me where and how they got it.”

Again the hunted, fearful look crossed the man’s face, and again he made an evident struggle to appear calm.

“I cannot explain it, sir. But it need not affect our business to any serious extent. There is enough demand for our steel in America to keep our furnaces busy, without going abroad for orders.”

He spoke mechanically, as if the problem was not new to him and he had often considered the matter in much the same way as he now clearly expressed it. Yet the set, expressionless tones were habitual to him, as they are to all who are unaccustomed to speak at any length.

“That is not the point,” said Mr. Williams, sternly. “We are confronted, for the first time, with competition, and by a firm active enough to oppose us in foreign markets. What will be the end of it? What will happen when they attempt to compete with us in our home markets?”

“They must pay duty, and we can always meet their price,” said Mr. Jordan, his voice sounding a bit defiant.

“The royalties I am obliged to pay you, on my product, more than offset the duties,” retorted the manufacturer. “Indeed, your demands force me to exact so high a price that our customers are already complaining. The secret is a secret no longer, it seems. Then why should I continue to pay your royalties?”

“If you choose to discontinue our arrangement, sir, I can dispose of the process to others. The firm of Thomson Brothers & Hayden stands ready——”

“Bah!” exclaimed Mr. Williams, slamming the desk with his fist in momentary scorn. “You know very well I cannot abandon my present product. It would render this expensive plant of no further value.”

Mr. Jordan bowed, with deference.

“I am willing to fulfill our contract in the future, as in the past, on the exact terms it stipulates. I have no doubt the mills will continue to prosper. Anything more, sir?”

He half turned, as if to go.

“Yes,” snapped the proprietor, who began to realize he had accomplished nothing by this interview.

Mr. Jordan waited, and for a time his employer remained silent, staring curiously at the impenetrable face of his secretary. Then he asked:

“How did you come to own this process, anyway? Why does it not belong to the heirs of the man who discovered it?”

Mr. Jordan poised his gaunt form more erectly than ever, and his glittering spectacles were directed full upon the other’s face.

“I believe I have already explained that. John Carden transferred to me his right to the discovery in consideration of money which he owed me and could not pay.”

“You loaned him money?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Sir, that is not your affair.”

“You never earned a dollar more than a bare living until I began to pay you royalties on the process. On the other hand, I have evidence that Carden loaned you money.”

The man shrank back.

“You are becoming offensive, Mr. Williams, in your remarks, and I beg to remind you we are not alone,” he said, not without dignity.

“I am interested in this matter myself, sir,” said Dr. Meigs, now speaking for the first time. “You know that I am a friend of the Carden family, even as I have always been your friend, Mr. Jordan. Therefore it would please me to be able to disentangle this mystery and have all doubts removed from my mind. You have told me, as you have told Mr. Williams, that John Carden owed you ten thousand dollars when he went away. Naturally we are curious to know how so great a sum came into the possession of a poor bank clerk, such as you then were. And also I have wondered what John Carden ever did with that money.”

Again the secretary wiped his brow, but, ignoring for the present Mr. Williams, he turned toward the doctor to reply.

“You have no right to ask me such questions, Doctor Meigs; but it may be that from your standpoint there is some justice in your suspicions. I am, therefore, quite willing to answer you. John Carden spent all his own money, and afterward mine, in expensive experiments. The money I obtained by a lucky speculation in a lottery, the ticket for which I bought under an assumed name, as I did many other tickets, when I was a poor clerk and had no hopes of otherwise acquiring wealth. It is very natural I should hesitate to declare myself a gambler, by explaining this openly; but never since that time have I invested one cent in speculation of any sort. And now, as I have duties to attend to, I will bid you good afternoon, believing that you will respect my confidence.”

As he concluded, the secretary, who never within the knowledge of man had uttered so lengthy a speech before, bowed gravely and stalked from the room, holding himself as rigidly upright as an Egyptian obelisk.

When he was gone the two friends exchanged glances.

“Well?” said Mr. Williams, interrogatively. “I admit that I am puzzled,” answered the doctor. “It is quite possible for Mr. Jordan to have won ten thousand dollars on a lottery ticket.”

“Yes; that was clever. There’s no controverting it.”

“But I do not think he sold the secret of your process to the Englishmen.”

“Nor do I. The man’s looks convinced me I was mistaken. But they also convinced me he has a secret he is desperately trying to hide. We’re on a false scent, that’s all.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“And what can explain the fact that the Atlas company of Birmingham is using the Carden process?”

“Are you sure it’s the same process?”

“Humph! Do you know anything about the way steel is made?”

“No.”

“It is a very delicate process to extract the impurities from iron and to transform that metal into a steel that will stand severe tension and become of so fine a temper that it will cut diamonds. Our product also had marvelous resiliency, and can be forged without losing any of its qualities. All this is accomplished by manipulations that are the result of accurate scientific calculations. No one could stumble upon such a process as Carden evolved by years of intelligent effort, and by no other process than Carden’s could such steel ever be manufactured.”

“Well, what will you do now?”

“I don’t know. What I’d like to do is to go to Birmingham at once and see if I can solve the mystery.”

“Why don’t you?” asked the doctor.

“I’m afraid to leave Jordan, to tell the truth. If he should attempt to run away I must be here to stop him. His suspicions will be aroused by this interview, and should he escape he would take the secret with him, and I would be forced to close the works. Can’t you go, doctor?”

“No, indeed. I can’t leave my patients. There are some who need me every day of their lives—or think they do, which is the same thing. A physician isn’t his own master, you know, and moreover this isn’t a physician’s business. Send a confidential agent.”

“I will. Whom do you suggest?”

“Will Carden.”

Mr. Williams smiled into the doctor’s earnest face.

“If I sent Will to Europe, Jordan would at once become suspicious,” said he.

“No one need know he has gone to Europe. We’ll keep it quiet, and as he is known to be my partner in the mushroom business I can send him away on our private affairs, and Mr. Jordan will have no cause to be suspicious.”

“I will think over the suggestion before deciding. But I’m glad you mentioned Will. He’s a fine, intelligent young fellow, and the trip would do him a lot of good.”

“Indeed it would. Good afternoon, Mr. Williams.” “I am grateful to you for giving me this hour,” said the manufacturer, rising to shake his friend’s hand, “for although we have not accomplished much it has relieved me of some of my suspicious of Mr. Jordan. I am still positive he deceived me about the formula, and there is no doubt he is a cold-blooded miser, who would stick at nothing to make money. Also, he has a secret. But, after all, few men are thoroughly understood, and in the end Jordan may prove to be less of a scoundrel than we have considered him.”

With this the interview terminated, and Doctor Meigs went away to call upon his parents. But for a time there was an unusually thoughtful expression upon his kindly face.