"If I do not act at once,
either Tom Butterworth or John Clark will get in ahead of me," he thought.
He knew they were both shrewd capable men. Had they not become well-to-do?
Even during the talk in the bank, when they had seemed to be impressed by
his words, they might well have been making plans to get the better of him.
They would act, but he must act first.
Steve hadn't the courage of the lie he had told. He did not have
imagination enough to understand how powerful a thing is a lie. He walked
quickly along until he came to the Wheeling Station at Pickleville, and
then, not having the courage to confront Hugh at once, went past the
station and crept in behind the deserted pickle factory that stood across
the tracks. Through a broken window at the back he climbed, and crept like
a thief across the earth floor until he came to a window that looked out
upon the station. A freight train rumbled slowly past and a farmer came to
the station to get a load of goods that had arrived by freight. George Pike
came running from his house to attend to the wants of the farmer. He went
back to his house and Steve was left alone in the presence of the man on
whom he felt all of his future depended. He was as excited as a village
girl in the presence of a lover. Through the windows of the telegraph
office he could see Hugh seated at a desk with a book before him. The
presence of the book frightened him.
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