“I haven’t laid a finger on you yet,” Johnny reminded him, “but if you make another offer to sell me that land I don’t know how I’ll stand the strain.”

“Well, say you give me the money for fun then,” amended Collaton.  “I didn’t know anything about this Birchard deal, but since you’ve mentioned it I can piece together a lot of things that mean something now.  I’ll help you chase that down, and you can afford to spare me five thousand.  Why, Johnny, I’m a poor sucker that has made the unfortunate financial mistake of being crooked; and you’re the luckiest cuss in the world.  To begin with, you’re square; and that’s the biggest stroke of luck that can happen.  Everybody likes you, you’re a swift money-maker, and you’ve got a girl—­now don’t get chesty—­that would make any man go out and chew bulldogs.”

Johnny reflected over that statement and turned a trifle bitter.  He had no million dollars; he had no friends; he had no girl!  He contemplated calling the police.

The telephone bell rang.

“Hello, Polly,” he said vigorously into the interrupting instrument, and then Collaton, watching him anxiously, saw his face light up like a Mardi Gras illumination.  “Bring my Baltimore straw hat!” jubilated Johnny.  “Polly, I’ll bring one if I have to go to Baltimore to get it.”  He paused, and the transmitter in front of his face almost glistened with reflected high-lights.  “Engagements!  For to-day?” exulted Johnny.  “I’m at liberty right now.  How soon may I come over?” He listened again with a wide-spread grin.  Collaton rolled a cigarette with black tobacco and brown paper, lighted it and smiled comfortably.  “Can’t I talk to Constance a minute?” implored Johnny, trying to push in the troublous tremolo stop.  “Oh, is she?  All right; I’ll be over in about twenty minutes.  No, I won’t make it an hour, I said twenty minutes;” and still smiling with imbecile delight he hung up the receiver and turned to Collaton with a frown.

“I think I can raise that two thousand for you,” he decided.  “Now tell me just what you know about Gresham and Birchard.”

CHAPTER XXII

IN WHICH PAUL GRESHAM PROPOSES A VERY PRACTICAL ARRANGEMENT

“Mr. Gresham is calling,” announced Aunt Pattie Boyden with some trepidation; for Constance, besides being ill, had not been in the best of humor during the last two weeks.

“Paul?” commented Constance with a pleased smile, which both delighted and surprised Aunt Pattie.  “I didn’t expect him for half an hour,” and she completed her toilet by adorning herself with a choice collection of Johnny Gamble’s roses.

“You are looking your best, I must say,” admired Aunt Pattie after a critical survey, for she was particularly anxious about this visit of Paul Gresham’s.

“She ought to,” interjected Polly, busy at the telephone; “that’s the third gown she’s tried on.  She’s expecting particular company.”