full quota of capital." 

 "What sort of a man is he?" 

 "A very reliable young man, I believe," responded Mr. Close, carefully testing an ink-eaten steel pen point to see if it was really time for it to be thrown away. "Of course I could not state Mr. Gamble to be financially responsible, but personally I would trust him. I would not urge or even recommend any one to take part in his projects; but personally I feel quite safe in investing with him, though I would not care to have that fact generally known, because of the influence it might have. Perhaps you had better see some of the other subscribers." 

 "No, I've seen enough," announced Mr. Washer. "Thanks!" and he dashed out of the door. 

 Ten minutes later he was in Loring's office again. 

 "Now, name your bottom price for that property," he ordered. 

 "Two million seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars," obliged Johnny with careful emphasis on each word. 

 "It's too much money." 

 "Don't buy it, then," advised Johnny, smiling quite cheerfully. 

 "Come on; let's close it up," offered Washer resignedly. "I might have to pay more if I waited." 

 "All right," said Johnny. "It's a bargain, then?" 

 "It's a bargain—confound it!" agreed Mr. Washer quite affably, now that the struggle was over. "Where do we go?" 

 "To Mallard Tyne, the six original owners and myself will all take a piece of your two and three-quarter millions." 

 "I ought to take a body-guard," grinned Washer; "but I'll chance it. Come on." 

 While the foregoing was in progress Constance Joy was entertaining Paul Gresham, who had the effrontery to drop in for lunch. Of course the conversation turned to Johnny Gamble. Neither of them could avoid it. They had reached the point where Gresham was angry and Constance was enjoying herself. 

 "I have great faith in him," she was saying. "He has a 

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