In a dog-cart borrowed from his obliging host, Count Bunker approached the present residence of Mr. Darius P. Maddison. He saw, and--in his client's interest--noted with approval the efforts that were being made to convert an ordinary fishing-lodge into a suitable retreat for a gentleman worth so many million dollars. "Corryvohr," as the house was originally styled, or "Lincoln Lodge," as the patriotic Silver King had re-named it, had already been enlarged for his reception by the addition of four complete suites of apartments, each suitable for a nobleman and his retinue, an organ hall, 10,000 cubic yards of scullery accommodation, and a billiard-room containing three tables. But since he had taken up his residence there he had discovered the lack of several other essentials for a quiet "mountain life" (as he appropriately phrased it), and these defects were rapidly being remedied as our friend drove up. The conservatory was already completed, with the exception of the orchid and palm houses; the aviary was practically ready, and several crates of the rarer humming-birds were expected per goods train that evening; while a staff of electricians could be seen erecting the private telephone by which Mr. Maddison proposed to keep himself in touch with the silver market.
The Count had no sooner pressed the electric bell than a number of men-servants appeared, sufficient to conduct him in safety to a handsome library fitted with polished walnut, and carpeted as softly as the moss on a mountain-side. Having sent in his card, he entertained himself by gazing out of the window and wondering what strange operation was being conducted on a slope above the house, where a grove of pines were apparently being rocked to and fro by a concourse of men with poles and pulleys. But he had not to wait long, for with a promptitude that gave one some inkling of the secret of Mr. Maddison's business success, the millionaire entered.
In a rapid survey the Count perceived a tall man in the neighborhood of sixty: gray-haired, gray-eyed, and gray-faced. The clean-shaved and well-cut profile included the massive foundation of jaw which Bunker had confidently anticipated, and though his words sounded florid in a European ear, they were uttered in a voice that corresponded excellently with this predominant chin.
"I am very pleased to see you, sir, very pleased indeed," he assured the Count not once but several times, shaking him heartily by the hand and eyeing him with a glance accustomed to foresee several days before his fellows the probable fluctuations in the price of anything.
"I have taken the liberty of calling upon you in the capacity of Lord Tulliwuddle's confidential friend," the Count began. "He is at present, as you may perhaps have learned, visiting his ancestral possessions----"
"My dear sir, for some days we have been expecting his lordship and yourself to honor us with a visit,"
Mr. Maddison interposed. "You need not trouble to introduce yourself. The name of Count Bunker is already familiar to us."
He bowed ceremoniously as he spoke, and the Count with no less politeness laid his hand upon his heart and bowed also.
"I looked forward to the meeting with pleasure," he replied. "But it has already exceeded my anticipations."
He would have still further elaborated these assurances, but with his invariable tact he perceived a shrewd look in the millionaire's eye that warned him he had to do with a man accustomed to flowery preliminaries from the astutest manipulators of a deal.
"I am only sorry you should find our little cottage in such disorder," said Mr. Maddison. "The contractor for the conservatory undertook to erect it in a week, and my only satisfaction is that he is now paying me a forfeit of 500 dollars a day. As for the electricians in this country, sir, they are not incompetent men, but they must be taught to hustle if they are to work under American orders; and I don't quite see how they are to find a job anyways else."
He turned to the window with a more satisfied air.
"Here, however, you will perceive a tolerably satisfactory piece of work. I guess those trees will be ready pretty near as soon as the capercailzies are ready for them."
Count Bunker opened his eyes.
"Do I understand that you are erecting a pine wood?"
"You do. That fir forest is my daughter's notion.
She thought ordinary plane-trees looked kind of unsuitable for our mountain home. The land of Burns and of the ill-fated Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, should have more appropriate foliage than that! Well, sir, it took four hundred men just three days to remove the last traces of the last root of the last of those plane-trees."
"And the pines, I suppose, you brought from a neighboring wood?" said the Count, patriotically endeavoring not to look too dumbfoundered.
"No, sir. Lord Tulliwuddle's factor was too slow for me--said he must consult his lordship before removing the timber on the estate. I cabled to Norway: the trees arrived yesterday in Aberdeen, and I guess half of them are as near perpendicular by now as a theodolite can make them. They are being erected, sir, on scientific principles."
Restraining his emotion with a severe effort, Bunker quietly observed "Very good idea. I don't know that it would have occurred to me to land them at Aberdeen."
From the corner of his eye he saw that his composure had produced a distinct impression, but he found it hard to retain it through the Silver King's next statement.
"You have taken a long lease of Lincoln Lodge, I presume?" he inquired.
"One year," said Mr. Maddison. "But I reckon to be comfortable if I'm spending twenty minutes at a railroad junction."
"Ah!" responded the Count, "in that case shifting a forest must be child's-play."
The millionaire smiled affably at this pleasantry and invited his guest to be seated.
