Five Thousand an Hour: How Johnny Gamble Won the Heiress
 "What do you mean by a renewable option?" asked Gresham, hesitating. 

 "When this option runs out I get another at the same price—and twice more after that." 

 "Nonsense!" exclaimed Gresham, turning away. "Why, I'd be letting you tie up my property for four months." 

 "I'm offering you over eighty per cent, a year. You'd rather stay tied." 

 Gresham pondered that problem for a moment. 

 "By Jove, you're right!" he said. "I'm selfish enough to hope that you can't pay for it in thirty days." He reflected that in all probability this reckless person was playing another long shot. "I'll take you." 

 Gamble piled the money into his hands, and with Polly's fountain-pen, wrote a clear and concise statement of the option upon the back of an unimportant letter. Gresham, as soon as he had finished counting the money with caressing fingers, read and reread the option cautiously—and signed it. 

 Polly reached out for it. 

 "Let me witness this," she requested with a glance of meaning at her friend Johnny; and, writing the word "Witnesses" in its proper place, she signed her name and passed the paper to Miss Joy. "Come in, Constance; the water's fine," she invited. "Be a witness with me and let's all be in vulgar trade." 

 Constance signed the paper gravely, puckering her lips adorably as she made a careful business of it. She gave the paper to Mr. Gamble, and he felt foolish enough to kiss the signature. She found another paper upon her lap and opened it mechanically. It was the subscription list. Suddenly she burst into laughter. 

 "This last donation is from Angora!" she exclaimed. "That's a generous subscription, Mr. Gamble; but I don't know whether to thank you or the horse." 

 "Thank the goat, whoever that is," he suggested, smiling into her eyes. Great Scott, what eyes they were! "Polly, Colonel Bouncer is over there by the band stand. I'll give you a nickel's worth of peanuts if you'll tell him what I'm doing." 

 Mr. Gresham turned olive green. 

 "Wait a minute, Miss Parsons," he protested. "Mr. Gamble, you manage very nicely without Mr. Collaton. If you knew of a 
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