while ago she was dodging the perfectly careless compliments of old
Tommy and trying not to see that his toupee was on crooked; and now
she's down toward the ravine some place, watching young Cecil
stumble. You could make yourself a very solid Johnny by trotting
right down there and breaking up the party."

"I think I'd rather have a messenger for that," calculated Johnny.
"His brothers wish to see Cecil up in the east loggia."

"Sammy will go," offered Winnie confidently; whereat Sammy, smiling
affably, promptly rose.

"Go with him, Winnie," ordered Polly. "Trot on now, both of you. I
want to talk sense."

Quite cheerfully Winnie gave Sammy her fan, her parasol, her vanity
box, her novel, her box of chocolates and her hat, stuffed a
handkerchief in his pocket and said: "Come on, Sammy; I'm ready."

"Constance showed me that schedule last night, Johnny," rattled
Polly. "You ought to see it, Loring. On Wednesday, at four o'clock,
he was exactly even with it; five hundred thousand dollars to the
good."

"I know," laughed Loring, "and he'll beat his schedule if the
Wobbleses will only hold steady for ten minutes."

"You don't mean to say that a Wobbles could be useful!" protested
Polly.