in the world. Understand, Paul, there's no
philanthropic string to this offer. You've pulled through a devil of a
hole. You're a man. I should not be holding down this chair if I
couldn't tell a man at a glance. We were together two months in Peru.
I'm familiar with your work. Do you want to know whose portrait that
is up there? Well, it's General Chetwood's, the founder of this
concern, the silent partner. The man who knew kings and potentates and
told 'em that they needed bridges in their backyards. This building
belongs to his daughter. She converted her stock into granite. About
a month ago I received a letter from her. It directly concerned you.
It seems she learned through the consul-general at Singapore that you
had worked with us. She's like her father, a mighty keen judge of
human nature. Frankly, this offer comes through her advices. To
satisfy yourself, you can give us a surety-bond for fifty thousand.
It's not obligatory, however."

Elsa Chetwood. She had her father's eyes, and it was this which had
drawn his gaze to the portrait. Chetwood; and Arthur had not known any
more than he had. What irony! Ten years wasted . . . for nothing!
Warrington laughed aloud. A weakness seized him, like that of a man
long gone hungry.

"Buck up, Paul," warned the good Samaritan. "All this kind of knocks
the wind out of you. I know. But what I've offered you is in good
faith. Will you take it?"

"Yes," simply.

"That's the way to talk. Supposing you go out to lunch with me? We'll
talk it over like old times."

"No. I haven't seen . . ."

"To be sure! I forgot. Do you know where they live, your mother and
brother?"

"No. I expected to ask you."

The vice-president scribbled down the address. "I believe you'll find
them both there, though Arthur, I understand, is almost as great a
traveler as you are. Of course you want to see them, you poor beggar!
The Southwestern will pull you almost up to the door. After the
reunion, you hike back here, and we'll get down to the meat of the
business."

"John," said Warrington, huskily, "you're a man."

"Oh, piffle! It's not all John. The old man left word that if you
ever turned up again to hang on to you. You were valuable. And
there's Miss Chetwood. If you want to thank anybody, thank her."
Warrington missed the searching glance, which was not without its touch
of envy. "You'd better be off. Hustle back as soon as you can."
Elmore of