on, he had
asked the privilege of inviting a guest, which was granted as readily
as if he had requested permission to appear in his bathrobe, for they
had no desire to offend a man who in their minds occupied an analogous
position with the ravens that brought food to Elijah starving in the
wilderness.

Prentiss had been investigated and his rating obtained. All that Toomey
had claimed for him was found to be the truth--he was an indisputable
millionaire, with ample means to put through whatever he undertook. The
effect of Prentiss's presence was noticeable throughout the town, and
innumerable small extravagances were committed on the strength of what
was going to happen "when the project went through."

But in no person was the change so marked as in Toomey, who felt that he
had come into his own at last. As an old and dear friend of Prentiss's
his prestige was almost restored. He fairly reeled with success, while,
with no one daring to refuse him credit because of the influence he was
presumed to exert, he ate tinned lobster for breakfast--to show that he
could.

If Prentiss suspected that he was being made capital of, exploited and
exhibited like a rare bird, there was nothing in his manner to indicate
that he entertained the thought. While it was true that his first
friendliness towards Toomey never came back, his impersonal,
businesslike courtesy in their intercourse was beyond reproach.

A report had been current that Kate and "Toomey's millionaire" knew each
other--some one in the Prouty House had seen them meet--but as she
returned almost immediately to the ranch and had not been in town since,
the rumor died for want of nourishment. No one but Mrs. Toomey gave it a
second thought. But she gave it many thoughts; it stuck in her mind and
she could not get it out.

To her, the resemblance between the two was very noticeable, and another
meeting with Prentiss made her marvel that no one observed it but
herself. In spite of the different spelling of the name, was there,
perchance, some relationship? The persistent thought filled her with a
vague disquietude. It was so strongly in her mind while they dressed for
the affair at the Prouty House that Toomey's conversation was largely a
soliloquy.

Surveying himself complacently in the glass, it pleased Mr. Toomey to be
jocose.

"Say, Old Girl, how long will it take you to pack your war-bag when I
get this deal pulled off? It's a safe bet that this cross roads ca