“Say, Johnny, I want you to give me power of attorney to wind up the Gamble-Collaton Irrigation Company,” was Loring’s morning greeting.

“Go as far as you like,” Johnny told him without looking up from a glowing account of the magnificent new hostelry.

“Good for you!” approved Loring.  “I’d expected to have half an hour’s wrestle with you—­and I couldn’t afford it, for this is my busy day.  I want you to understand this, Johnny:  If I take that old partnership off your hands you’re to ask no questions.”

“Go twice as far as you like,” offered Johnny indifferently.”  I’ve forgotten there ever was a Gamble-Collaton Irrigation Company.  Listen to this, Loring:  ’Surmounting the twentieth story of the magnificent new structure there will be a combined roof garden, cafe and theater, running continuous vaudeville—­’”

“This agreement, entered into this twenty-fifth day of April,” began the discordantly hurried voice of Loring.  He was dictating to his stenographer a much more comprehensive agreement than a mere power of attorney; and as soon, as it was ready Johnny signed it without a question.

“Get this, Ashley?” he remarked, handing back Loring’s pen and reading gleefully from another paper:  “’A subway entrance into the new terminal station is being negotiated—­’”

“All right,” said Loring, putting on his hat.  “Good-by!”—­and he was gone.

If Loring professed but slight interest in the flamboyant plans for the new hotel, there were others who were painfully absorbed in the news of the project.  Gresham, for one, read the account with contracted brows at his late breakfast; and at noon, inspired by a virtuous sense of duty, he sauntered over to Courtney’s club.

“I see you’re involved in another hotel proposition,” he ventured.

“I hope involved is not the word,” returned Courtney with rather a wry smile.

“Is your company fully organized?” asked Gresham with a trace of more than polite interest.

“I think not,” answered Courtney.  “I’m not in a position to state, however, as the matter is out of my hands.  I am taking some stock in it, of course; but I have nothing to do with the organization of the company, since I have sold the ground to Mr. Gamble.”

“Gamble?” repeated Gresham.  “Oh, is that so?”

His tone was so deprecative that Courtney was sharply awakened by it.

“Do you know anything against Gamble?” he quite naturally inquired.

“Not a thing,” Gresham hastily assured him.  “Anyhow, you have sold him the property and are fully secured?”

“I’ve sold it to him under contract,” replied Courtney, ready, in view of his recent experiences, to become panic-stricken at a moment’s notice.

“Of course, if anything happens you can reclaim the property,” Gresham considered.  “It forms its own security; but still, any one holding a private claim against Gamble might try to attach it and give you a nasty entanglement.”