!" gasped Polly. "Burglar!"

"They'll double their money," asserted Johnny indignantly. "Fanciest
neglected opportunity within a gallon of gasolene from Forty-second
Street."

"Trouble is, Johnny didn't own it and doesn't yet," laughed Loring.
"He's been trying to buy it from the Wobbleses ever since he arranged
to sell it."

"He'll get it," decided Polly confidently.

"Will they agree when they get together?" Loring worried. "Individually
each one needs the money, and each one is satisfied with Johnny's offer
of three million cash."

"Don't say another word," ordered Polly. "I have to figure this out.
Why, Johnny, if you carry this through it will finish your million, and
this is only the thirteenth of May. That's going some! You weren't
supposed to have it till the thirty-first. Polly's proud of you!"

"I don't think you get the joke of this yet, though, Polly," Loring
went on. "The Wobbleses don't know that Johnny had already arranged to
sell their land, and the subdivision company doesn't know that the
beautiful Bronx tract is the Wobbles estate. In the meantime both
parties are here, and I'm lurking behind the scenery with all the
necessary papers ready to sign, seal and deliver."

"Hush!" commanded Polly; "I'm getting excited. It sounds like the
finish of the third act. Oh, lookee! Who's the graceful party with
Gresham?"

Both Johnny and Loring glanced up at a tall, suave, easy-moving
gentleman, whose clothing fitted him like a matinee idol's, whose
closely trimmed beard would have served as a model for the nobility
anywhere, and whose smile was sickening sweet.

"Eugene Wobbles' friend, Birchard," stated Johnny, who kept himself
well posted on Wobbles affairs. "He's always either with Gresham or a
Wobbles, and he travels for a living, I believe." And Johnny suddenly
rose.

Coming from the direction of the ravine were Constance and Cecil,
Winnie and Sammy, and passing Gresham and Birchard with the nod of
compulsion Johnny walked carelessly on to meet the quartet.

"Good morning, Cecil," he observed. "Your brothers are about to hold a
meeting in the east loggia, and I think they're looking for you."

"No doubt," admitted Cecil wearily. "It's barely possible that one or
two of them are already believing that they will go up. Do you know, I
think I shall establish a record for family promptness, if I may be
excused. Most annoying to be torn away from such a jolly talk, I'm
sure." And receiving the ful