ig railroad
company which built this terminal station doesn't own that blank space
it's a fool--and I don't think it is. If it does the property will be
held for ever for the increase in value. Let's look at these other
blocks. The buildings on the one next to it are worth about a plugged
nickel apiece--and that would make exactly as good a location."

"But, Johnny; you couldn't build a hotel in forty days!"

"Build it! I don't want to. I only want to promote it."

"Does a promoter never build?" asked Polly.

"Not if he can escape," replied Johnny. "All a promoter ever wants to
do is to collect the first ninety-nine years' profits and promote
something else. Drive me up to the address on that real estate sign and
I'll pay you whatever the clock says and let you go."

"The clock says a one-pound box of chocolates," she promptly estimated.
"Wait, though. I did send for some!" And she looked back into the
tonneau. "Why, drat it all! I mislaid Sammy!" she gasped.

CHAPTER VI

IN WHICH CONSTANCE DECIDES ON A FAIR GAME

By three o'clock Johnny Gamble had acquired so much hotel information
that his head seemed stuffed. Every bright-eyed financier in the city
had nursed the happy thought of a terminal hotel and had made tentative
plans--and had jerked back with quivering tentacles; for all the
property in that neighborhood was about a thousand degrees Fahrenheit.
The present increase of value and that of the next half-century had
been gleefully anticipated, and the fortunate possessor of a
ninety-nine-year lease on a peanut stand felt that he was providing
handsomely for his grandchildren.

Mr. Gamble detailed these depressing facts to his friend Loring with
much vigor and picturesqueness.

"The trouble with New York is that everybody wants to collect the
profits that are going to be made," Loring sagely concluded.

"It's the only way they can get even," Johnny informed him. "Well,
that's the regular handicap. Guess I'll have to take it."

"You don't mean to try to promote a hotel against such inflated
values!" protested Loring.

"Why not?" returned Johnny. "That section has to have a hotel. The
sporty merchants of the Middle West will pay the freight."

"I guess so," agreed Loring thoughtfully. "Well, good luck to you,
Johnny! By the way, President Close of the Fourth National, has called
you up twice this afternoon. I suppose he's gone, by now."

"No, I think he stays to sweep out for the gold-dust,"