seventeen thousand five hundred. You may pay the balance of the
money to Gresham--upon delivery, I suppose, of the deed."

"Surely," said the colonel nonchalantly; and, producing his own
fountain-pen and check-book, he wrote Johnny Gamble's check, while
Gamble wrote a transfer of his option. Constance watched that
unquestioning operation between the two gentlemen with puzzled
brows.

"You're not taking this matter to your lawyer, Colonel," she
observed.

"Certainly not!" he replied in surprise. "I've known Johnny Gamble
for years, and I'd take his word for my entire bank-account."

"I must confess that business ethics has me more confused than
ever," laughed Constance. "You just now accused Mr. Gamble of
robbing you."

It was the colonel's turn to laugh.

"I'd have paid him sixty thousand," he advised her, placing the
option affectionately in his pocket-book. "It's worth that to me.
I've been afraid to broach the matter to Gresham for a month, for
fear he'd want seventy-five when he found out I had to have it. I'm
getting it cheaper through Gamble."

A fleeting trace of guilt upon Gresham's countenance told that this
surmise was the truth, and Constance shook her head.