s, and I'll set a diamond tiara on her
proud little head. Bet it don't out-sparkle her eyes. Lord, Lord, she'll
make 'em all stare."

The chauffeur gave the financier a measuring glance from the corner of his
eye, but he puckered his lips discreetly to cover a grin, and with his
head still cocked sidewise, looked off to the lifting front of Cerberus,
whistling softly _Queen Among the Heather_. But the tune ceased abruptly
and, straightening like an unstrung bow, he swerved the machine out of the
thoroughfare and brought it to a stop.

It was not the Empress of India who held the road, but little Banks in his
red car. Slackening speed, he shouted back above the noise of the exhaust:
"Hello! Is that you, Mr. Morganstein? I guess likely you're looking for
me. But I can't stop. I've got to catch the local for Wenatchee; the
eastbound don't make our station, and I'm booked for a little run through
to Washington, D.C."

"That so?" answered Morganstein thoughtfully. "I came over just to look at
this orchard of yours. See here, wait a minute." He unbuttoned his heavy
coat and, finding a pocket, drew out a time-card. "You will have a couple
of hours to waste in Wenatchee between trains. Give me half an hour, long
enough to show me a bird's-eye view of the project--that's all I want in
this snow and I guarantee to put you in Wenatchee on time for your
eastbound. The road is in good shape; driver knows his car."

Banks left his roadster and came over to the larger car. "I'll risk it
since you've broke trail," he said, taking the vacant seat behind. "But I
knew if I took chances with snow, in this contrary buzz-wagon of mine,
she'd likely skid off the first mean curve."

Morganstein, laughing, changed his seat for the one beside the prospector.
"It's like this, dry and firm as a floor, straight through to Wenatchee.
These are great roads you have in this valley; wish we had 'em on the
other side the range."

"I sent a scraper up from the station ahead of me," said Banks. "And,
driver, we may as well run up the switchback to the house. It's level
there, with room to turn. And it will give you the chance to see the whole
layout below," he went on, explaining to Morganstein. "The property on
this side the mountain belongs to my wife, but we ain't living here yet;
we are stopping with folks down by the station. Likely we'll move, soon's
I get back from my trip. That is, if the boys get busy. Seem's if I have
to keep after some of