time for that
chapter of--"

"So you have," says I; "only you got to ditch this Toothpicketus work
until you sign an order to your lawyers about sellin' that land. Here,
lemme draft it off for you. Twelve words. Likely they'll want an O.
K. on the 'phone, too; but you won't mind that. Now your signature.
Thanks. And say, any time you and Tidman need a crude commercial mind
to help you out, just send for me."

Uh-huh! By three o'clock next day we owned the whole of that Apache
Creek tract and had the goods to shove at Ballinger.

Was it a smear? It was--a smear plus. Tickled? Why, Old Hickory came
so near smilin' I was afraid that armor-plate face of his was goin' to
crack.

But say, don't tell the National Real Estaters' League about that
commission check he slipped me. I might lose my amateur standin'.

CHAPTER VIII

BREAKING ODD WITH MYRA

Next time I'll pay attention. For Vee must have mentioned how this
Cousin Myra of hers was comin'. Yes, I remember now. Said something
about her being an old-maid niece of Auntie's who was due to drift in
from Bermuda or California or somewhere, and that she might stay over a
few days.

But it was no solemn warning as it had a right to be. So, by the time I
gets this sudden hunch the other night about runnin' up for a little
unlisted chat with Vee, I must have forgotten. Not one of my regular
evenin's, you understand, nor any special date: I was just takin' a
chance. And when the maid tells me Miss Vee and Auntie have gone out for
an after-dinner stroll on the Drive, I chucks my new felt-rim straw on
the hall table and remarks careless that, as Auntie ain't likely to do
any Marathon before bedtime, I guess I'll wait.

Helma grins. "Mees Burr, she in bookrary, yes," says she.

"Oh!" says I. "The cousin? That'll be all the better. Good chance for
me to be gettin' in right with her. Tell her what to expect, Helma."

That's the sort of social plunger I am--regular drawing-room daredevil,
facin' all comers, passin' out the improvised stuff to strangers, and
backin' myself strong for any common indoor event. That is, I was until
about 8:13 that evenin'. Then I got in range of them quick-firin' dart
throwers belongin' to Miss Myra Burr.

Say, there's some people that shouldn't be allowed at large without
blinders on. Myra's one. Her eyes are the stabby kind, worse than long
hatpins. Honest, after one glance I felt like I was bein' held up on a