ourse," Thatcher added, to Huntington.

"I can resist anything but temptation," Huntington replied soberly; "I
love the enemy."

"This cocktail-drinking is a curious thing," Thatcher remarked. "In cold
weather we take it to warm us up, in warm weather to cool us off; when
we are depressed it is to cheer us, and when we're happy it's because we
want to celebrate. And there you are.--How about the Consolidated
Machinery deal?" Thatcher changed the subject abruptly, and spoke to
Cosden. "Are we going to fight each other on that?"

"I'm afraid we'll have to," Cosden admitted frankly; "but I'll be glad
to talk it over with you. From here, the interests look too far apart
even to compromise."

Cosden and Huntington went up in the elevator together, leaving Thatcher
on the piazza.

"What the devil did that young cub show up here for just at this time?"
Cosden demanded.

"Didn't you hear?" Monty explained innocently. "He wanted to cheer me up
in my 'awful loneliness.'"

"Lonely fiddlesticks!" Cosden protested irritably. "Don't you grasp the
fact that his coming is going to mess things up?"

"Why, no," Huntington said slowly, pausing at the door of his room to
give his friend opportunity to finish his remarks; "I can't for the life
of me see that."

"Don't you see that it's Merry Thatcher the kid is making up to?"

"Oh, ho!" Huntington exclaimed. "So that's the situation! It was stupid
of me not to understand."

"Well, that's it; and I won't have it."

"Of course you won't; but how are you going to stop it?"

"That's your job, Monty. It's up to you to send him about his business."

"That doesn't appeal to me as a sporting proposition," Huntington said
after a moment's deliberation. "I didn't come down here to help you get
a corner in anything, but merely as an observer, and to give you expert
advice. Now you suggest a combination--trust, as it were--of two
full-grown men against a half-baked boy. It isn't worthy of you, Connie,
and I'm not sure that it isn't an illegal restraint of trade. Oh, no; I
couldn't think of it."

"I'd like to see you in the same situation just once," growled Cosden.
"Why the devil can't you send the boy home?"

"If I did, he'd come back so quick he'd meet himself going away,"
Huntington said gravely; "but as a matter of fact I understand that he
plans to go on Monday, and there's no boat sailing before then anyhow."

He opened the door of his room and stepped inside.

"I might add