I thought of you, old chap. You've made a rousing success of
it--got a big name as art collector--made lots of money and all
that----"

Underwood impatiently interrupted him.

"It's impossible, Jeffries. Things are a little hard with me, too, just
now. You'll have to wait for that $250."

Howard grinned.

"'Taint the $250, old man, I didn't want that. I want a couple of
thousand."

Underwood could not help laughing.

"A couple of thousand? Why not make it a million?"

Howard's demand struck him as being so humorous that he sat down
convulsed with laughter.

Looking at him stupidly, Howard helped himself to another drink.

"It seems I'm a hit," he said with a grin.

Underwood by this time had recovered his composure.

"So you've done nothing since you left college?" he said.

"No," answered Howard. "I don't seem to get down to anything. My ideas
won't stay in one place. I got a job as time-keeper, but I didn't keep
it down a week. I kept the time all right, but it wasn't the right
time," Again raising his glass to his lips, he added: "They're so
beastly particular."

"You keep pretty good time with that," laughed Underwood, pointing to
the whiskey.

Howard grinned in drunken fashion.

"It's the one thing I do punctually," he hiccoughed. "I can row, swim,
play tennis, football, golf and polo as well as anybody, but I'll be
damned if I can do anything quite as well as I can do this."

"What do you want $2,000 for?" demanded Underwood.

"I've got an opportunity to go into business. I want $2,000 and I want
it deuced quick."

Underwood shrugged his shoulders.

"Why don't you go home and ask your father?" he demanded.

His visitor seemed offended at the suggestion.

"What!" he exclaimed, with comic surprise, "after being turned out like
a dog with a young wife on my hands! Not much--no. I've injured their
pride. You know father married a second time, loaded me down with a
stepmother. She's all right, but she's so confoundedly aristocratic. You
know her. Say, didn't you and she--wasn't there some sort of an
engagement once? Seems to me I----"

Underwood rose to his feet and abruptly turned his back.

"I'd rather you wouldn't get personal," he said curtly. Sitting down at
a desk, he began to rummage with some papers and, turning impatiently to
Howard, he said:

"Say, old man, I'm very busy now. You'll have to excuse me."

If Howard had been sober, he would have understood that this was a
pretty