accomplice!

This was the expression that brought back the period in which Anthony
had cherished the theory that music's true germ lay in the negro race,
properly guided and separated from all outside influences and--well,
this was the expression, fast enough, and Boller's throat tightened. He
had not even found words of protest when Anthony pursued:

"And upon my soul! See how the thing has been prearranged for us!"

"What?"

"Look here, Johnson," the owner of Fry's Liniment hurried on, quite
excitedly. "Have you noticed how packed the house is to-night?"

"What? Yes, and----"

"Every seat in the place is sold--_except this one seat in our box_!"

"What of it?"

"It's fate!" chuckled Mr. Fry. "It is fate and nothing else, Johnson.
Out of all the millions in New York, one man--absolutely unknown to,
unsuspected by, either you or me--is coming to take this seat, doubtless
for the star bout."

"But----"

"To that man," said Anthony, "I shall offer opportunity!"

"What d'ye mean? Money?" Johnson Boller asked incredulously.

"It will involve money, doubtless; I can afford a little."

"Well, you go and poke a handful of bills into a man's face and all
you're going to prove is that----"

"I have no idea of doing anything of the sort," Anthony said
impatiently. "What I purpose doing is simply this: I shall----"

Johnson Boller had recovered from the first shock. He drew a long, deep
breath, and, leaning over to his old friend, placed a firm, strong hand
on his knee and looked soothingly into his kindled eye.

"Listen, Anthony!" said he. "_Don't!_"

"Eh? You've no notion of what I mean to do," Anthony said briefly.

"No, but I can guess enough to dope it out pretty well, and--don't do
it!" Johnson Boller said earnestly. "This theory stuff is all right,
Anthony; I like to sit and chatter about it as much as you do. On the
level, I do! I like to talk with you about these things, and wonder what
would happen if this was thus and the other thing was otherwise. But
when you come to pulling it on a perfect stranger at a prize fight,
Anthony, try to remember that everybody may not understand you as well
as I do."

"My dear chap!" Anthony laughed.

"Don't laugh; I know what I'm talking about," Mr. Boller went on,
feverishly almost. "You wait till we get home, Anthony, and we'll talk
over all this about opportunity and get it settled. For the matter of
that, I can see now that you're dead right!" Johnson Boller