a year. I'm going to build their neighborhood ornament and fill
it with high-toned niggers!"

Mrs. Slosher smiled. She was a beautiful young woman. To youth belongs
much.

Johnny Gamble, caught amidships, as it were, snorted.

"Well, I don't live out there," he said.

Mr. Slosher smiled.

"That is all, I believe," he announced as he assisted Mrs. Slosher to
her feet with that punctilious gallantry which defies a younger man to
do it better.

At four o'clock Jim Guff called Mr. Gamble on the telephone.

"Hello, Gamble!" he hailed in an entirely new voice. "You're a robber!"

"You flatter me," returned Johnny quite comfortably. "Is there anything
I can do for you in that line?"

"A whole lot," replied Guff. "I'll accept the price you gave Mrs. Guff
on that river-view site."

"Too late," answered Johnny cheerfully. "I withdrew that offer before
Mrs. Guff left the office. Mr. and Mrs. Slosher have been in since
then."

Jim Guff's voice cracked as he hastily said:

"I'll meet any offer he makes you and tack a five-thousand-dollar bonus
to it."

Johnny called up the De Luxe Apartments. Company and secured the ear of
Mr. Chase.

"I withdraw my offer of two hundred and seventy-five thousand for that
river-view property," he stated. "What is the best bid you will make me
above that figure?"

"I'm not inclined to scramble for it," immediately claimed Mr. Chase,
who was aware at the time that he was telling a point-blank lie.

"Very well, then," said Johnny, wondering how he was to get a definite
figure without committing himself. "I'll have to drop you out of my
calculations."

"When must you know?"

"To-morrow morning."

"You're bluffing!" charged Mr. Chase scornfully.

"I have two very earnest bidders for the property," insisted Johnny
with dignity--and completed his bluff, if Chase cared to regard it that
way, by hanging up his receiver.

Before he left the office he entered in his books:

"May 4. Sold; but I don't know who to or at what price. Close to
schedule, though."

He entered the next day in advance:

"May 5. The Babies' Fund Fair--Holiday. Nothing doing."

CHAPTER XII

IN WHICH JOHNNY EVEN DOES BUSINESS AT THE BABIES' FUND FAIR

"I wish I could write poetry," regretted Johnny, looking across at
Constance Joy in the violet booth.

"Why don't you try it?" asked Polly Parsons, following his gaze and
comprehending his desire perfectly, for she, too, was a rabid
Constancite.