been gone for the past two weeks, no one knew where, but somewhere out
south, with a party.

There was nothing to do after that but to look for fit apartments for
the gently reared girl and her maid. Hunting a needle in the ocean
would have been a somewhat similar task. Van went at once at the
business, with his customary spirit. He was presently informed there
was nothing resembling a room or a bed to be had in all the place. A
hundred men would walk the streets or sleep in chairs that night. The
one apartment suitable for two lone women to occupy had been secured
the previous day by "Plunger" Trask, an Eastern young man who would bet
that grass was not green.

Van searched for Trask and found him "cashing in" a lot of assorted
chips, representing his winnings at a faro game at which he had been
"bucking."

"Hello, there, Van," he said familiarly as the horseman touched him on
the shoulder. "Come and have a drink."

"My teeth are floating now from drink," said Van, "but I'll take
something else if you say so. I want your apartments for the night."

"Say, wire me!" answered the plunger. "That's the cutest little bunch
of nerve I ever saw off the Bowery! How much money have you got in
your clothes?"

"About forty-five dollars," said Van. "Is it good?"

"Not as a price, but O.K. in a flip," said Trask, with an itch for