He declared that he would--but he was talking into a dead telephone.

"I guess I'll hurry," he decided, and stalked into Mallard's room.
"Look here, fellows. Can't we cut this thing short?" he suggested.
"There's no use in Mr. Courtney's completing his purchase from
Mallard & Tyne, or me mine from Mr. Courtney, or Mr. Washer his from
me. All that poppy-cock is just to conceal out profits. What Mr.
Washer wants is the ground; and Courtney and I want half a million
dollars, besides the eighth of a million that Mr. Courtney had
already invested. Mr. Washer, give Courtney your check for five-
eighths of a million--and both Courtney and I will tear up our
contracts and give you the pieces. Then you settle with Mallard &
Tyne for two and an eighth millions."

"Look here, Courtney, is this a put-up job between you and Gamble?"
demanded Washer.

"No," returned Courtney, with that rarely seen smile of his, "it's
only the finish of that job you put up on me when you persuaded my
friends to drop out of my hotel company."

Washer looked petulant. Johnny Gamble patted him on the shoulder.

"Cheer up," he said--"but hurry. If you don't hurry I'll sell you
some stock in my Terminal Hotel Company."

"Give me some papers to sign," ordered Washer, producing his check-
book.

Gresham met the colonel and Courtney on Broadway in full regalia