back to business. You have your eye on a yacht, but, from your specification, fifty thousand dollars is more like what you’ll want than five. What’s the name of this yacht?”

“She’s not exactly a yacht,” said Hank.

“Then what is she?”

“She’s more in the nature of an optical delusion.”

George had patience. He had also plenty of time and could afford to let Hank play about. It was the first time he had come really in touch with the town lot speculator’s mentality, and it interested him. His own position began to interest him, too. He had pledged himself to this expedition and he would no more draw out than old Harley du Cane would have drawn out of one20 of his frontal attacks on Jay Gould, however dangerous.

20

“Well, you are going to chase after this Dutchman in an optical delusion,” said he. “I’m listening—go on, spit out your meaning.”

Hank rose to his feet and took his hat.

“Come on,” said he, “and I’ll show you it.”

21

21

CHAPTER IV TYREBUCK

TYREBUCK

THEY left the building and struck down Market Street. It was three o’clock in the afternoon and a blazing day. Market Street looked the same as ever—with a difference. It seemed to George that the whole world had somehow a different tinge, as though he were looking at it from the windows of a lunatic asylum.

The people in the street all seemed to be bent on business, serious and sane beyond ordinary; even the loafers and pleasure-seekers were bathed in this atmosphere.

Said Hank, as they crossed the street towards a block of buildings topped by a huge sky sign advising people to smoke Duke Orlando cigarettes:

“Did you ever read about the one horse shay?”

“Which?” asked George.

“The one that went a hundred years and then bust up.”

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