“Do you refuse this property at two hundred and seventy-five thousand?” Mr. Gamble interestedly wanted to know.

“Certainly I do!” she emphatically declared, positive that no human being would pay that absurd increase in valuation.

“Then the price is withdrawn,” he told her; and she left him, puzzling mightily over that last remark.

Johnny Gamble was a man of steady nerves, yet even he fidgeted until three o’clock for fear Mr. Slosher would not call him up.  At that hour, however, Mr. Slosher called in person, accompanied by his wife.  There is no need to describe Mr. Slosher, who was merely an elderly gentleman of much vigor and directness; and it is impossible to describe Mrs. Slosher, who was never twice alike, anyhow, being merely the spirit of a beautiful ever changing youth in a body of beautiful ever changing habiliments.

“What do you want for the river-view property you have just purchased?” Mr. Slosher demanded.

“I don’t know,” confessed Johnny, laughing.  “The valuation is going up so rapidly that I can’t keep track of it myself.  Mrs. Guff was just in, asking the price.”

Mrs. Slosher tapped the toe of a beautiful satin carriage slipper impatiently upon the floor, and a very bright red spot glowed on each cheek; but she did not say a word.  She only looked at her husband.  Mr. Gamble had a queer idea that her mere gaze could, on an occasion like this, burn holes through a cake of ice.  Certain it is that Mr. Slosher turned quickly to her—­and then, as if he had been galvanized, turned back to Johnny.

“I’ll give you until to-morrow night to secure your highest offer and then I’ll add five per cent, to it,” he stated.

“You understand the restrictions, I suppose?” ventured Johnny.

“Perfectly.  My kind neighbors have handed me a ten-story apartment-house, with a minimum rental per suite of three thousand dollars a year.  I’m going to build their neighborhood ornament and fill it with high-toned niggers!”

Mrs. Slosher smiled.  She was a beautiful young woman.  To youth belongs much.

Johnny Gamble, caught amidships, as it were, snorted.

“Well, I don’t live out there,” he said.

Mr. Slosher smiled.

“That is all, I believe,” he announced as he assisted Mrs. Slosher to her feet with that punctilious gallantry which defies a younger man to do it better.

At four o’clock Jim Guff called Mr. Gamble on the telephone.

“Hello, Gamble!” he hailed in an entirely new voice.  “You’re a robber!”

“You flatter me,” returned Johnny quite comfortably.  “Is there anything I can do for you in that line?”

“A whole lot,” replied Guff.  “I’ll accept the price you gave Mrs. Guff on that river-view site.”

“Too late,” answered Johnny cheerfully.  “I withdrew that offer before Mrs. Guff left the office.  Mr. and Mrs. Slosher have been in since then.”