to sell their land, and the subdivision company doesn't know that
the beautiful Bronx tract is the Wobbles estate. In the meantime
both parties are here, and I'm lurking behind the scenery with all
the necessary papers ready to sign, seal and deliver."

"Hush!" commanded Polly; "I'm getting excited. It sounds like the
finish of the third act. Oh, lookee! Who's the graceful party with
Gresham?"

Both Johnny and Loring glanced up at a tall, suave, easy-moving
gentleman, whose clothing fitted him like a matinee idol's, whose
closely trimmed beard would have served as a model for the nobility
anywhere, and whose smile was sickening sweet.

"Eugene Wobbles' friend, Birchard," stated Johnny, who kept himself
well posted on Wobbles affairs. "He's always either with Gresham or
a Wobbles, and he travels for a living, I believe." And Johnny
suddenly rose.

Coming from the direction of the ravine were Constance and Cecil,
Winnie and Sammy, and passing Gresham and Birchard with the nod of
compulsion Johnny walked carelessly on to meet the quartet.

"Good morning, Cecil," he observed. "Your brothers are about to hold
a meeting in the east loggia, and I think they're looking for you."

"No doubt," admitted Cecil wearily. "It's barely possible that one
or two of them are already believing that they will go up. Do you
know, I think I shall establish a record for family promptness, if I
may be excused. Most annoying to be torn away from such a jolly