Part 42 (1/2)

”There must be some rus.h.i.+ng if you have that million dollars by four o'clock,” laughed Constance. ”Polly and I want you to have it.”

”You're right that I'll have to go some,” he admitted.

”Excuse the chauffeur for interrupting your conversation,” protested Polly, turning round and deftly missing a venturesome banana cart; ”but you grabbed off half a million of it on a holiday.”

”It was twelve-thirty this morning when we took Gresham,” claimed Johnny. ”This is a working-day.”

”Hotel Midas,” announced the chauffeur, pulling up to that flamboyant new hostelry with a flourish.

Johnny hurried in to the desk, where Mr. Boise had already left word that Mr. Gamble should be shown right up. He found that fatigue-proof old Westerner s.h.i.+ning from his morning ablutions, as neat as a pin from head to foot, and smoking his after-breakfast cigar in a parlor which had not so much as a tidy displaced. His eyes twinkled the moment he saw Johnny.

”I suppose you still have a disinterested anxiety to have me adopt the Sage City and Salt Pool route?” he laughed.

”I'm still anxious about it,” amended Johnny, refusing to smile at his own evasion of the disinterestedness. ”I brought you a wad of reports and things to show you how good that territory is. You don't know what a rich pay-streak you'd open up in that part of the Sancho Hills Basin.”

Mr. Boise laughed with keen enjoyment.

”I don't think I need to wade through that stuff, Johnny,” he admitted, having picked up from Courtney the habit of calling young Gamble by his first name. ”To tell you the truth, I sent a wireless telegram to my chief engineer yesterday afternoon, off Courtney's yacht when we connected with the Taft, and this morning I have a five-hundred-word night lettergram from him, telling me that after a thorough investigation of the situation he finds that the Sage City and the Lariat Center routes are so evenly balanced in advantage that a choice of them is really only a matter of sentiment.”

Johnny paused awkwardly, stumped for the first time in his life.

”I don't know how to make that kind of an argument,” he confessed, to the great enjoyment of Boise.

”It is rather difficult,” admitted that solidly constructed railroad president; ”particularly since I personally favor the Lariat Center route.”

Johnny again felt very awkward.

”Can't we put this on some sort of a business basis?” he implored.

”I don't think so,” returned Mr. Boise with a cheerful smile. ”You probably couldn't influence me in the least; but that charming young lady who was with you yesterday afternoon--your sister or something, I believe, wasn't it--she might.”

Johnny stiffened.

”Then we don't want it,” he quietly decided, and took his hat.

”That's the stuff!” yelled Boise in delight. ”You belong out West!

Well, Johnny, I'm afraid you'll have to have it as a matter of sentiment, and partly on the charming young lady's account, whether you like it or not. Now what have you to say about it, you young bantam?”

”Much obliged,” laughed Johnny, recovering from his huff in a hurry. ”I thank you for both of us.”

”Don't mention it,” replied Boise easily, and chuckling in a way that did him good. ”Give my very warmest regards to the young lady in question.”

”Would you care to come down-stairs and give them to her yourself?”

invited Johnny, a trifle ashamed that he had resented the quite evidently sincere admiration of Boise for both Constance and himself.

”So early in the morning?” laughed Boise, putting on his sombrero with alacrity. ”It must be serious,” and, clapping Johnny heartily on the shoulder with a hand which in its lightest touch came down with the force of a mallet, he led the way to the elevator.

At the curb Mr. Boise, who was also confronting a busy day, delighted both the girls and Johnny by the sort of well-wishes that a real man can make people believe, and when they drove away Constance was blus.h.i.+ng and Polly was actually threatening to adopt him.