ds.

"One hundred thousand! You mean I could make a hundred thousand with
my fifty between now and spring?"

"Sure as a nigger likes gin," replied Norton, confidently.

"How?" asked Langdon.

The young Congressman leaned over confidentially.

"This is under your hat, Randolph. You can keep quiet?"

Langdon nodded eagerly.

"Then put it into Altacoola land."

"The naval base?" gasped Langdon.

Norton nodded.

"Now you've hit it. The Government will select Altacoola for a naval
base. Then land will jump 'way up to never, and you'll clean up a
hundred thousand at the least. Isn't it simple? There are, a thousand
people with money who would just love to have this chance. And I'm
giving it to you because of our friendship. I want to do you a good
turn. I've got my money in there."

Young Langdon was visibly impressed.

"You've always--treated me right, Charlie; you've been for me, I know.
But suppose the Government doesn't select Altacoola. Gulf City's in
the running."

Norton laughed sarcastically.

"Gulf City is a big bunch of mud flats. Besides, I'll tell you
something else. Just between us, remember." He waited for the boy's
eager nod before he went on. "The big men are behind Altacoola.
Standard Steel wants Altacoola, and what Standard Steel wants from
Congress you can bet your bottom dollar Standard Steel gets. They know
their business at No. 10 Broadway. Now, then, are you satisfied?"

Randolph was more than satisfied. Already he felt himself rich, and
honestly rich, too, for Norton had convinced him that there was no
reason why he should not use the $50,000 of his father's, when it had
to lie in the bank anyhow all winter, and he would have it back in
time to use on the plantation in the spring when it was needed. How
proud of him his father would be when he showed him a clear profit of
$100,000!

"I'll go get the drafts at once, Charlie, and I'm mighty much obliged
to you," he said, with gratitude in his voice.

Norton's smile was one of deep satisfaction.

"That's all right, Randolph. You know I want to do anything I can for
you."

Randolph was starting for his room when Haines and Cullen turned
sharply around the corner of the hotel desk. Again Bud and the young
Southerner accidentally collided.

"Where are you going? Can't you look out?" blurted Langdon.

Haines grinned.

"Guess it's your fault this time."

"Oh, it is, is it?" irritably replied Randolph, who as the "young
marse" h