looking at the money avariciously.

"To show confidence in the dealer. You have a vacant lot up-town.
What's it worth?"

"Forty thousand dollars," recited Graham.

"If you want forty it's worth thirty," Gamble sagely concluded. "I'll
split it with you. Give you thirty-five."

Gresham shook his head; but Gamble, watching him closely, saw that he
was figuring.

"I can't let the property go for less than its value."

"I don't want you to. I offered you thirty-five."

"On what terms?" inquired Gresham cautiously.

"Thirty days cash. This twenty-five hundred is a first payment. I want
a renewable option. If I don't cross over with the balance in thirty
days, spend the money."

"What do you mean by a renewable option?" asked Gresham, hesitating.

"When this option runs out I get another at the same price--and twice
more after that."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Gresham, turning away. "Why, I'd be letting you
tie up my property for four months."

"I'm offering you over eighty per cent, a year. You'd rather stay tied."

Gresham pondered that problem for a moment.

"By Jove, you're right!" he said. "I'm selfish enough to hope that you
can't pay for it in thirty days." He reflected that in all probability
this reckless person was playing another long shot. "I'll take you."

Gamble piled the money into his hands, and with Polly's fountain-pen,
wrote a clear and concise statement of the option upon the back of an
unimportant letter. Gresham, as soon as he had finished counting the
money with caressing fingers, read and reread the option
cautiously--and signed it.

Polly reached out for it.

"Let me witness this," she requested with a glance of meaning at her
friend Johnny; and, writing the word "Witnesses" in its proper place,
she signed her name and passed the paper to Miss Joy. "Come in,
Constance; the water's fine," she invited. "Be a witness with me and
let's all be in vulgar trade."

Constance signed the paper gravely, puckering her lips adorably as she
made a careful business of it. She gave the paper to Mr. Gamble, and he
felt foolish enough to kiss the signature. She found another paper upon
her lap and opened it mechanically. It was the subscription list.
Suddenly she burst into laughter.

"This last donation is from Angora!" she exclaimed. "That's a generous
subscription, Mr. Gamble; but I don't know whether to thank you or the
horse."

"Thank the goat, whoever that is," he suggested, smiling into her