He stepped across the hall to the lawyer's office.
"Well, Frank," said he, "glad we managed to push it through with so
little trouble."
Taylor arose, shut carefully the door into his outer office, walked
to the window, looked contemplatively out upon the hotel backyard,
and returned to his desk.
"But there is trouble," said he curtly.
"What's the matter?" asked Orde.
"The banks refuse the loan."
Orde stared at him in blank astonishment.
"Refuse!" he echoed.
"Absolutely."
"What grounds can they possibly have for that?"
"I can't make out exactly from these advices. It's something about
the title."
"But I thought you went over the title."
"I did," stated Taylor emphatically; "and I'll stake my reputation
as a lawyer that everything is straight and clear from the Land
Office itself. I've wired for an explanation; and we ought surely
to know something definite by tomorrow."
With this uncertainty Orde was forced to be content. For the first
time in his business career a real anxiety gnawed at his vitals. He
had been in many tight places; but somehow heretofore success or
failure had seemed to him about immaterial, like points gained or
conceded in the game; a fresh start was always so easy, and what had
been already won as yet unreal.
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