“‘You were forty feet away picking wildflowers,’ he said.

“‘You didn’t realize how badly I wanted a Manton,’ I said.

“‘A Manton!’ he cried out.  ‘What in heaven’s name is a Manton?’

“It’s awful to think how little some people know!  I’m sure he thought it was something to wear.

“I explained to him what a Manton is.

“‘And so you must have a Manton,’ he said.

“’Did you ever want anything so bad that it kept you awake at night?’ I asked him.

“He looked at me a long time without saying a word.  He was one of the kings of Wall Street and I was only a five-foot-three girl, and I felt such a little cad when I saw his hands were trembling.

“‘Jess,’ he said, ’if you chose to do it you could half ruin me.  You could shake some of the biggest houses in New York; you could drive the Forty-fourth National Bank into the hands of a receiver.  You could start a financial earthquake.’

“And he looked at me again a long time.

“‘The point is,’ he began once more, ’are you strong enough to keep such a secret?  Have you the character to do it—­the grit—­the determination?’

“‘Just watch me!’ I said.

“I thought it was a good sign that he smiled.

“‘Just keep this to yourself for one month,’ he said, ’and I’ll send you the biggest, the reddest, the most dangerous, noisy, horse-frightening, man-destroying, high-stepping, high-smelling —­what do you call it—­Manton?—­in the whole United States.’

“‘Oh, Mr. Collenquest, I couldn’t do that,’ I said.

“Then he got frightened all over again.

“‘Why not?’ he demanded.  ’Why not?

“‘I wouldn’t put a price on my secrecy,’ I said.  ’That wasn’t what I meant at all, only I thought you might be good-natured enough to let me in on the deal—­with a margin on Gee-whizz, you know.’

“‘I suppose I am getting old,’ he said, ’and getting stupid—­but would you mind explaining to me what you want in words of one syllable?’

“‘You wanted to put papa on a good thing,’ I said.  ’He wouldn’t have it, so I thought you might pass it along to me,

“‘You seem to have passed it along to yourself,’ he remarked, a bit ironically.

“‘It’s a very small matter to you,’ I pleaded, ’but it’s a whole Manton to me.’

“‘And the shock nearly killed father,’ he said, mopping his bishop forehead.

“’I can make papa give me four hundred and fifty dollars for Gee-whizz,’ I said; ‘and the question is, is that enough?’

“‘Enough for what?’ he asked.

“‘For a Manton, of course,’ I said.

“‘Would you mind putting it in figures instead of gasoline?’ he said, laughing as though he had made an awfully good joke.  I laughed, too—­just to humor him.

“‘Well,’ I said, ’with acetylene lamps, top, baskets, extra tires, French tooter, freight, insurance, spare tools and a leather coat—­say three thousand.’