ld feel my ears getting pale; "I'll
hand it over to him Thursday or Friday--if you think it's best not
to invest it in that new house."

"Oh! I really do!" she hurried back. "You know Uncle Peter is so
careful and so clever with his investments. He told me in
strictest confidence only this morning that he would more than
double your money in six months. Isn't that perfectly splendid!"

"Is that the wonderful secret you threatened me with?" I asked
mournfully.

"Oh no!" she replied; "I can't tell you that till Wednesday
evening--I promised not to."

I guess I didn't sleep very well that night, for I had dreams of
Uncle Peter chasing me with a club all over a theatre and making me
hop every seat in the orchestra, while Ma'moiselle Dodo sat perched
on the balcony rail and screamed, "You betcher sweet!"

CHAPTER VII.

JOHN HENRY GETS A SURPRISE.

The following day Bunch and I attended to the shipping of all the
scenery and props and trick stuff, and we were two busy lads,
believe me.

On Wednesday we tried all day to locate Skinski, but he avoided
punishment until about four o'clock in the afternoon, when we
finally flagged him and began to ask him questions.

"I've been busy since Monday," he explained; "brokers and bankers
and lawyers, and there are doings. Say! you're two of the dead
gamest sports I ever bumped into, and no matter what happens I'm
for you for keeps!"

"What's the reason for the crab talk?" I asked sharply. "Are you
going to give us the sorry hand and bow yourself out after we have
put up every mazooboe we possess? What kind of a sour face are you
pulling on us?"

"Oh! pinkies!" he came back. "Did I say anything about quitting
you? Why, I wouldn't give you guys a cold deal not for Morgan's
bank roll. I only wanted to prepare you for certain big happenings
in case there are real doings with that gold mine out in the Blue
Hills."

"Sush!" I laughed; "then it's only the hasheesh. But, Skinski, on
the level, I do wish you'd quit smoking those No. 4's; they'll ruin
your imagination."

"Wait and see," smirked Skinski. "And, by the way, nephew Bunch, I
met a certain old party this morning who thinks you are very hot
fried parsnips!"

"You did," Bunch came back, with a yawn.

"Yes," replied Skinski; "and a nice old man, too, is Mr. William
Grey.'

"Where the devil did you meet Mr. Grey?" Bunch inquired excitedly.

"Back, back up!" said Skinski quietly; "I didn't disgrace