"I supposed you were nosin' round like the rest." "Why, I didn't go as a mere prospector! I'd had my training at Montreal." And Anderson resumed his questions.
But McEwen presently took no pains to answer them.

He grew indeed less and less communicative.

The exact locality of the mine, the names of the partners, the precise machinery required--Anderson, in the end, could get at neither the one nor the other.

And before many more minutes had passed he had convinced himself that he was wasting his time.

That there was some swindling plot in his father's mind he was certain; he was probably the tool of some shrewder confederates, who had no doubt sent him to Montreal after his legacy, and would fleece him on his return.
"By the way, Aunt Sykes's money, how much was it ?" Anderson asked him suddenly.