“Yes.”  And Larry proceeded to give the details of his design.

“Regular psychological stuff!” exclaimed Hunt.  And then:  “Say, you’re some stage-manager!  Or rather same playwright!  Playwrights that know tell me it’s one of their most difficult tricks—­to get all their leading characters on the stage at the same time.  And here you’ve got it all fixed to bring on Miss Sherwood, Dick, Maggie, yourself, and the all-important me—­for don’t forget I shall be slipping out to Cedar Crest occasionally.”

“As for myself,” remarked Larry, “I shall remain very much behind the scenes.  Maggie’ll never see me.”

“Well, here’s hoping you’re good enough playwright to manage your characters so they won’t run away from you and mix up an ending you never dreamed of!”

The car paused again in the drive and Larry got out.

“I say, Larry,” Hunt whispered eagerly, “who’s that tall, white-haired man working over there among the roses?”

“Joe Ellison.  He’s that man I told you about my getting to know in Sing Sing.  Remember?”

“Oh, yes!  The crook who was having his baby brought up to be a real person.  Say, he’s a sure-enough character!  Lordy, but I’d love to paint that face! . . .  So-long, son.”

The car swung around the drive and roared away.  Larry mounted to the piazza.  Dick was waiting for him, and excitedly drew him down to one corner that crimson ramblers had woven into a nook for confidences.

“Captain, old scout,” he said in a low, happy voice, “I’ve just told sis.  Put the whole proposition up to her, just as you told me.  She took it like a regular fellow.  Your whole idea was one hundred per cent right.  Sis is inside now getting off that invitation to Miss Cameron, asking her to come out day after to-morrow.”

Larry involuntarily caught the veranda railing.  “I hope it works out—­ for the best,” he said.

“Oh, it will—­no doubt of it!” cried the exultant Dick.  “And, Captain, if it does, it’ll be all your doing!”

CHAPTER XXIII

When Miss Sherwood’s invitation reached Maggie, Barney and Old Jimmie were with her.  The pair had growled a lot, though not directly at Maggie, at the seeming lack of progress Maggie had made during the past week.  Barney was a firm enough believer in his rogue’s creed of first getting your fish securely hooked; but, on the other hand, there was the danger, if the hooked fish be allowed to remain too long in the water, that it would disastrously shake itself free of the barb and swim away.  That was what Barney was afraid had been happening with Dick Sherwood.  Therefore he was thinking of returning to his abandoned scheme of selling stock to Dick.  He might get Dick’s money in that way, though of course not so much money, and of course not so safely.

And another item which for some time had not been pleasing Barney was that Larry Brainard had not yet been finally taken care of, either by the police or by that unofficial force to which he had given orders.  So he had good reason for permitting himself the relaxation of scowling when he was not on public exhibition.