"Then he took a long look at the half-dollar and with a low moan he
passed away.

"In the excitement I grabbed Peaches and we flew for home.

"Say! Bunch! the only time I'll ever go in the St. Regis again
will be just after a hearty dinner."

"I guess you're right, John, but what about this scheme to win out
my wedding money?" Bunch queried. "I'm dreadfully nervous about
it."

"I know. Bunch, I know just how you feel. I'm quite a bit to the
St. Vitus myself, because if Clara J. ever gets wise that I've been
speculating again after faithfully promising her to cut out all the
guessing contests, she's liable to say something unkind. I simply
must get that money back, Bunch, before she knows I lost it, and
Signor Petroskinski is the name of our paying teller. I tell you,
Bunch, we can't lose if we handle this cinch right, and I've got it
all framed up. It's good for a thousand plunks apiece every week,
so cut out the yesterday gag and think of a fat to-morrow."

"I'd like to see this Petroskinski," said Bunch.

"I'll have him take luncheon with us to-morrow at the Hotel
Astor--twelve thirty. Are you for me to the finish, Bunch?"

"If you think it's all right I'll trail," said Bunch, and we shook
hands.