Dives eyed Uncle Jap keenly.  Rich men don’t tell all they know, otherwise they would not be rich.  Still, those figs and that water-melon on a broiling July afternoon had tasted uncommonly good!

“Look here, Mr. Panel, I think I can guess what has happened.  Somebody has tried to squeeze you—­eh?”

“That’s so.”

“Um!  You’re not the first.”

“I wan’t squeezed.”

“Not yet, but——­Mr. Panel, I should like to do you a service, and I know you to be an intelligent man.  Do you see this sheet of blotting-paper?”

The blotting-paper lay immaculate upon the desk.  Dives took a clean quill, dipped it into ink, and held it poised over the white pad.  Uncle Jap watched him with interest.

“This,” continued Dives, thoughtfully, “represents you and your ranch, Mr. Panel,” he made a small dot upon the blotting-paper.  “This,” he made a much larger dot, “represents me and all I have.  Now Leveson represents—­this.”

With a violent motion, quite contrary to his usual gentle, courteous manner, Dives plunged the quill to the bottom of the ink pot, withdrew it quickly, and jerked its contents upon the blotting-paper.  A huge purple blot spread and spread till the other small blots were incorporated.

“D—­n him!” spluttered Uncle Jap.

Dives shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.

“My advice is:  take what Leveson offers.”

“Fifty thousand for millions?”

“Possibly.  Can you touch them, if Omnipotence forbids?”

Dives stared moodily at the big purple blot; then picking up the sheet of blotting-paper he tore it to pieces with his nervous, finely-formed fingers, and dropped it into the waste-paper basket.  When he looked up, he saw that Uncle Jap’s mild blue eyes were curiously congested.

“You might see So-and-so,” Dives named a banker.  “I’ll write a note of introduction.”  Then he added with a faint inflection of derision:  “I fear it will be of no service to you, because few business men care to buy trouble even at a bargain.”

All this Ajax and I heard from Uncle Jap, after he returned from San Lorenzo without selling Sunny Bushes to So-and-so.  None the less, he brought back a pair of small diamond ear-rings.

“Lily’s ears ain’t pierced,” he explained; “but she’ll hev a reel splendid time lookin’ at ’em, jest as I uster hev with my nightie.”

“Your—­nightie?”

Uncle Jap chuckled and rubbed together his bony hands, cracking the joints.

“Yas, my nightie.  Never tole you boys about that, did I?  Wal, about a month before Lily an’ me was fixin’ up to get merried, she made me a nightie.  It was mos’ too dressy fer a lady to wear, let alone a critter like me who’d allus slep’ in his pants an’ day shirt.  ’Twas of fine linen, pleated, and fixed with ribands, yaller riband, I chose the colour.  Lily was kinder stuck on pale blue, but I liked yaller best.  Lily knew what I’ do with that nightie, an’ I done it.  I put it away in the tissoo paper ‘twas wrapped in, an’ I hev it still.  I’ve got more solid satisfaction out of lookin’ at it than I ever hev out o’ my bank book.  An,” he concluded warmly, “Lily’s goin’ ter feel jest that way about these yere sollytaires.”