"I've had all of that money I want," he declared. "Whatever schemes you have in the future you will have to work yourself, and whatever trouble comes of it you may also enjoy alone--because I'll throw you."

"You would find difficulty in doing that," Gresham observed with a smile. "I fancy that, if I were to send the missing books of the defunct Gamble-Collaton Irrigation Company to Mr. Gamble, you would be too busy explaining things on your account to bother with my affairs to any extent."

"I was in jail once," Collaton told him with quiet intensity. "If I ever go again the man who puts me there will have to go along, so that I will know where to find him when I get out. Good-by."

"Wait a minute," said Gresham. "Your digestion is bad or else you made a recent winning in your favorite bucket-shop. Now listen to me: Whatever Johnny Gamble's doing at the present time is of no consequence. Let him go through with the deal he has on and think he has scared you off. I'll only ask you to make one more attempt against him. That's all that will be necessary, for it will break him and at the same time destroy Miss Joy's confidence in him. He has over a third of a million dollars. We can get it all."

"Excuse me," refused Collaton. "If I ran across Johnny Gamble's pocket-book in a dark alley I'd walk square around it without stopping to look for the string to it."

Gresham rose.

"Then you won't take any part in the enterprise?"

"Not any," Collaton a.s.sured him with a wave of negation. "If Johnny will let me alone I'll let him alone, and be glad of the chance."

Later, Gresham saw Johnny come back and speak to Heinrich Schnitt; but he had no curiosity about it. Whatever affairs Johnny had in hand just now he might carry through unmolested, for Gresham was busy with larger plans for his future undoing.

CHAPTER XVI

IN WHICH JOHNNY PLANS A REHEARSAL BETWEEN OLD FRIENDS

Johnny Gamble was waiting at the store when Louis Ersten came down the next morning. Mr. Ersten walked in with a portentous frown on his brow and began to take off his coat as he strode back toward the cutting room. He frowned still more deeply as Johnny confronted him.

"Again!" he exclaimed, looking about him in angry despair as if he had some wild idea of calling a porter. "First it's Lofty; then it's some slick real estate schemer; then it's you! I will not sell the lease!"

"I won't say lease this time," Johnny hastily a.s.sured him.

"Then that is good," gruffly a.s.sented Ersten with a trace of a sarcastic snarl.

"Heinrich Schnitt," remarked Johnny.

That name was an open sesame. Louis Ersten stopped immediately with his coat half-off.

"So-o-o!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, surprised into a German exclamation that he had long since deliberately laid aside. "What is it about Heinrich?"

"I saw him at Coney Island last night. He doesn't look well."

"He don't work. It makes him sick!" Ersten's voice was as gruff as ever; but Johnny, watching narrowly, saw that he was concerned, nevertheless.

"His eyes are bad," went on Johnny, "but I think he would like to come back to work."

"Did he say it?" asked Ersten with a haste which betrayed the eagerness he did not want to show.

"Not exactly," admitted Johnny, "but if he knew that he could have a workroom where there is a better light I know he would like to come.

His eyes are bad, you know."

"I said it makes him sick not to work," insisted Ersten. "If he wants to come he knows the way."

"His job's waiting for him, isn't it?"

"In this place, yes. In no other place. I don't move my shop to please my coat cutter--even if he is the best in New York and a boy that come over from the old country with me in the same ship, and his word as good as gold money. It's like I told Heinrich when he left: If he comes back to me he comes back here--in this place. Are his eyes very bad?"

"Not very," judged Johnny. "He must take care of them though."

"Sure he must," agreed Ersten. "We're getting old. Thirty-seven years we worked together. I stood up for Heinrich at his wedding and he stood up for me at mine. He's a stubborn a.s.sel!"

"That's the trouble," mused Johnny, "He said he wouldn't work in this shop any more."

"Here must he come--in this place!" reiterated Ersten, instantly stern; and he walked st.u.r.dily away, removing his coat.

Johnny found Heinrich Schnitt weeding onions, picking out each weed with minute care and petting the tender young bulbs through their covering of soft earth as he went along. Mama Schnitt, divided into two bulges by an ap.r.o.n-string and wearing a man's broad-brimmed straw hat, stood placidly at the end of the row for company.

"Good morning, Mr. Schnitt," said Johnny cheerfully. "I have just come from Ersten's. He wants you to come back."

"Did he say it?" asked Heinrich with no disguise of his eagerness.

"Not exactly," admitted Johnny, "but he said that you are the best coat cutter in New York and that your job's waiting for you."

"I know it," a.s.serted Heinrich. "Is he going to move?"

"Not just yet," was the diplomatic return. "He will after you go back to work, I think."

"I never work in that place again," announced the old man with a sigh.

"I said it."

"That shop isn't light enough, is it?" suggested the messenger.

"There is no light and no room," agreed Heinrich.

"Your eyes began to give out on you, didn't they?"

Heinrich straightened himself and his waxen-white face turned a delicate pink with indignation.

"My eyes are like a young man's yet!" he stoutly maintained.

"You don't read much any more," charged Mama Schnitt.

"My gla.s.ses don't fit," he retorted to that.

"You changed them last winter," she insisted. "Now, papa, don't be foolish! You know your eyes got bad in Louis Ersten's dark workroom.

You never tell lies. Say it!"

Heinrich struggled for a moment between his pride and his honesty.

"Well, maybe they ain't just so good as they was," he admitted.