day before. When a bunch of water-logged stems of early tulips,
propelled by Lute's vigorous arm, impacted soggily on his neck under
the ear, he fled. The riot of pursuit echoed along the hall and died
out down the stairway toward the stag room. Forrest gathered himself
together, and, grinning, went jingling on through the Big House.

He crossed two patios on brick walks roofed with Spanish tile and
swamped with early foliage and blooms, and gained his wing of the
house, still breathing from the fun, to find, in the office, his
secretary awaiting him.

"Good morning, Mr. Blake," he greeted. "Sorry I was delayed." He
glanced at his wrist-watch. "Only four minutes, however. I just
couldn't get away sooner."




CHAPTER IV



From nine till ten Forrest gave himself up to his secretary, achieving
a correspondence that included learned societies and every sort of
breeding and agricultural organization and that would have compelled
the average petty business man, unaided, to sit up till midnight to
accomplish.

For Dick Forrest was the center of a system which he himself had built
and of which he was secretly very proud. Important letters and