ng hundreds of thousands of dollars; but before he could break
ground on it him and his wife had a spat and got a divorce. He tried
to sell the land back again to the people he bought it from, but they
wouldn't take it at any price. They were glad to be shut of it and
none of his rich friends wanted to buy it after that, because, they
said, there were so many of those cheap summer resorts around here."

"I see," said Sam musingly. "You don't happen to know the man's name,
do you?"

"Dickson, I think it was. Henry Dickson. I remember his first name
because it was the same as mine."

"Great!" exclaimed Sam, overjoyed. "Why, I know Henry Dickson like a
book. I've engineered several deals for him. He's a mighty good
friend of mine too. That simplifies matters. Drive us right over to
Hollis Creek."

"To Hollis Creek!" she objected. "I should think you'd drive to Meadow
Brook instead and dress for the trip. Aren't you going to catch that
afternoon train and go right up there?"

"By no means. This is Saturday, and by the time I'd get to New York he
couldn't be found anywhere; and anyhow, I wouldn't have time to deliver
you at Hollis Creek and make this next train."

"Don't mind about me," she urged. "I could go to the train with you
and Henry could take me back to Hollis Creek."

"That's fine of you," returned Sam gratefully; "but it isn't the
program at all. I happen to know that Dickson stays in his office
until one o'clock on Saturdays. I'll get him by long distance."

They were quite silent in calculation on the way to Hollis Creek, and
Miss Josephine found herself pushing forward to help make the machine
go faster. Breathlessly she followed Sam into the house, and he
obligingly left the door of the telephone booth ajar, so that she could
hear his conversation with Dickson.

"Hello, Dickson," said Sam, when he got his connection. "This is Sam
Turner. . . . Oh yes, fine. Never better in my life. . . . Up here
in Hamster County, taking a little vacation. Say, Dickson, I
understand you own a thousand acres down here. Do you want to sell it?
. . . How much?" As he received the answer to that question he turned
to Miss Josephine and winked, while an expression of profound joy,
albeit materialized into a grin, overspread his features. "I won't
dicker with you on that price," he said into the telephone. "But will
you take my note for it at six per cent.?"

He laughed aloud at the next reply.