rrison, the man who wants to get our land. If I fail to
plank down the cash the very instant it is demanded, he gets his chance.
And he'll take it. Now, go. Don't hurry until you get beyond the door:
then FLY!"

Thorpe sat down again in his broad-armed chair and resumed his drumming.
The nearest bank was six blocks away. He counted over in his mind the
steps of Carpenter's progress; now to the door, now in the next block,
now so far beyond. He had just escorted him to the door of the bank,
when the clerk's voice broke in on him.

"Now," Smithers was saying, "I'll give you a receipt for the amount, and
later will send to your address the title deeds of the descriptions."

Carpenter had yet to find the proper official, to identify himself, to
certify the check, and to return. It was hopeless. Thorpe dropped his
hands in surrender.

Then he saw the boy lay the two typed lists before his principal, and
dimly he perceived that the youth, shamefacedly, was holding something
bulky toward himself.

"Wh--what is it?" he stammered, drawing his hand back as though from a
red-hot iron.

"You asked me for a telegram," said the boy stubbornly, as though trying
to excuse himself, "and I didn't just catch the name, anyway. When I saw
it on those lists I had to copy, I thought of this here."

"Where'd you get it?" asked Thorpe breathlessly.

"A fellow came here early and left it for you while I was sweeping out,"
explained the boy. "Said he had to catch a train. It's yours all right,
ain't it?"

"Oh, yes," replied Thorpe.

He took the envelope and walked uncertainly to the tall window. He
looked out at the chimneys. After a moment he tore open the envelope.

"I hope there's no bad news, sir?" said the clerk, startled at the
paleness of the face Thorpe turned to the desk.

"No," replied the landlooker. "Give me a receipt. There's a certified
check for your money!"

Chapter XXIV

Now that the strain was over, Thorpe experienced a great weariness. The
long journey through the forest, his sleepless night on the train,
the mental alertness of playing the game with shrewd foes all these
stretched his fibers out one by one and left them limp. He accepted
stupidly the clerk's congratulations on his success, left the name of
the little hotel off Fort Street as the address to which to send the
deeds, and dragged himself off with infinite fatigue to his bed-room.
There he fell at once into profound unconsciousness.

He wa