"I suppose you could draw on that ?" McEwen could not be got to give a plain answer.

It wasn't near enough, anyhow; not near.

The evasion seemed to Anderson purposeless; the mere shifting and doubling that comes of long years of dishonest living.

And again the question stabbed his consciousness--were his children justified in casting him so inexorably adrift?
"Well, I'd better run down and have a look," he said at last.

"If it's a good thing I dare say I can find you the dollars." "Run down--where ?" asked McEwen sharply.
"To the mine, of course.