fairly see the nuggets they were soon to unearth, and their imaginations,
each fired by the other, shoveled out the coin which the picture show was
to yield them, in the same way that the fisherman had shoveled the
shining mackerel into the boat. They had not attempted to count them,
simply measured them by the barrelful.

"Don't tell anybody," Richard counseled her as they parted at the Green
Stairs. "Cross your heart and body you won't tell a soul. We want to
surprise 'em."

Georgina gave the required sign and promise, as gravely as if it were an
oath.

From the front porch Richard's father and cousin, James Milford, watched
him climb slowly up the Green Stairs.

"Dicky looks as if the affairs of the nation were on his shoulders,"
observed Cousin James. "Pity he doesn't realize these are his care-free
days."

"They're not," answered the elder Richard. "They're the most deadly
serious ones he'll ever have. I don't know what he's got on his mind now,
but whatever it is I'll wager it is more important business than that
deal you're trying to pull off with the Cold Storage people."




Chapter VI