"Having a holiday," said Johnny soberly, and escaped.

He wanted work--the more of it the better. He spent the entire week in the most fatiguing toil he could find, and in that week had no word from Constance Joy except a very brief and coldly-formed note thanking him for his flowers.

On the following Sat.u.r.day morning Gresham walked into the Bronx offices with a particularly smug satisfaction.

"I've come to close up the Wobbles transfer with you," he stated. "I am authorized formally to make over the property to you and to collect the two and a half million remaining to be paid."

"Barring the slight difference of a million dollars the amount is correct," replied Johnny dryly. "I have the million and a half balance ready, but I had expected Mr. Birchard to come in and finish the transaction."

"Birchard is not representing the Wobbleses," Gresham politely informed him. "I had a little talk with them on the Tuesday following the house-party at Courtney's, and they decided to have me look after the matter instead. By the way, I hunted for you everywhere on the day before the first payment was due, to tell you that the Wobbleses preferred to have the two and a half million paid all in one sum to-day; but since you were not in I didn't trouble to leave you a note.

Very few men need to be told not to pay out money."

"Do you mean to tell me that Mr. Birchard never has represented the Wobbles family in this matter?" Johnny managed to ask.

"Certainly not," answered Gresham, widening his eyes.

"I have his signed authorization to act for them in the matter,"

declared Johnny, remembering that circ.u.mstance with happy relief.

"You have?" inquired Gresham with great apparent surprise. "Will you allow me to look at the paper?"

Johnny showed it to him triumphantly, but Gresham read it with a smile of contempt.

"I was correct in my suspicions of Birchard," he stated. "This doc.u.ment is a forgery. I hope you did not pay him any money on the strength of it."

Silently Johnny laid before him Birchard's receipt, and a second later as he saw the gleam of gratification in Gresham's eyes was sorry that he had done so.

"I am afraid that you have been swindled," was Gresham's altogether too sympathetic comment. "However, that does not concern the business in hand. This was the day appointed for the final settlement, and I have come prepared to make it with you."

"You'll have to wait," declared Johnny bluntly, putting away the doc.u.ments.

"I must call your attention to the fact that if you do not close this matter to-day my princ.i.p.als are at liberty to place the property upon the market again."

"Advise them not to do so," Johnny warned him. "Under the circ.u.mstances I am certain that I can secure enough delay for investigation--legally, if necessary. I won't move a step until I've looked into this."

"Very well," said Gresham easily, and walked out.

Johnny, in a consternation that was barely short of panic, immediately consulted Loring, and together they set out upon a search for the Wobbleses. At their various hotels--for no two of them put up at the same place--it was discovered that they were severally "probably in the country at week-end parties". Tommy alone they found, but he knew so little and was so upset by what they told him that they were sorry he, too, had not attended a week-end party; and they left him gasping like a sea-lion, with his toupee down over his ear, and saying between gasps over and over again with perfectly vacant eyes: "Eugene's an a.s.s!

Perfect a.s.s, don't you know!"

They spent some hopeless time in attempting to trace Birchard, but that gentleman had disappeared on the previous Sat.u.r.day. No one had seen him or had heard of him or had thought of him. They put the case into the hands of detectives, and gave up hope.

"I don't think it was lucky money any-how," said Johnny gloomily.

Constance had not cared for it and it was worthless!

It was not until Monday that they found Eugene Wobbles, and that voluntary expatriate was almost as much taken aback as his brother Tommy had been.

"Ow, I say, it's most extraordinary!" he declared, stroking his drooping mustache and swinging his monocle. "Why, do you know, I met the blooming bounder at Lord Yawp'n'am's--second cousin, you know, of this very decent chap, Gresham. Introduced him at my clubs and all that sort of thing, I a.s.sure you! I'll have the burning scoundrel blacklisted!"

"Thanks," said Loring with deep grat.i.tude. "Of course that won't get back the million though."

"Well, I'm bound to give you the right there," admitted Eugene, "but at the same time I must insist that it will cut the beggar never to be allowed the privileges of a gentleman's club again."

"And serve him right, I say; even jolly well right," agreed Loring with a sarcasm that was altogether lost and was intended to be.

"I must say that our friend Gresham has behaved well in the matter,"

added Eugene. "Birth and breeding are bound to tell. I fancy every one will admit that. What?"

"They tell a great deal," returned Loring dryly. "What did our friend Gresham do that was so decent?"

"Ow, yes," Eugene was reminded, "we were discussing that, weren't we?

Well, at our friend Courtney's house-party, Gresham was all for Birchard to handle this business; fairly forced him on us, don't you know; but on Tuesday he came to us much pained, I a.s.sure you, and in the greatest confidence told us he was sure the beggar was not the man for the place. Been mixed up in a rotten money scandal or so, don't you know."

"So you discharged Birchard," Loring surmised, keenly interested.

"Well, not exactly," replied Eugene. "You see it wasn't necessary. We never had definitely appointed him. Come to think, neither he nor Gresham insisted on it; and, anyhow, the fellow never came back to us."

"I see," said Loring softly with a glance at Johnny. "So, you being without an agent, Gresham kindly consented to act for you--without commission."

"Ow, yes, certainly, without commission," agreed Eugene. "Very decent indeed of him, now, wasn't it?"

"Almost pathetic," admitted Loring. "Well, Johnny," he said as they went back to the office, "you're up against it. While Birchard was forging the papers to get your million Gresham was establishing an alibi for himself. The only thing I see for you to do--besides laying for Gresham--is to repudiate this entire deal and get back as much of your half-million as you can."

"And owe the rest of it to my friends?" demanded Johnny. "Not any. I'll pay over the two and a half million I have on hand, complete the deal and stand the loss myself. I'll be broke, but I won't owe anybody."

Loring looked at him with sudden pity. "You'll have to take a fresh start," he advised as lightly as possible, since one did not like to be caught expressing pity to Johnny. "You have two days left."

"Guess again!" directed Johnny. "One of them's a holiday--Decoration Day--to-morrow."

"Tough luck, old man!" said Loring.

"I didn't care for the million, Loring," declared Johnny wearily, driven for the first time to an open confession.

"I know," agreed Loring gently, still suffering from his own hurt. "It was Constance. She may not be so keen for that million as you think."

Johnny shook his head sadly.

"I know she isn't," he admitted. "That's the hard part of it. She didn't seem to care when I had it--not for it or for me. Up to that time I thought there was a chance. Now the loss of this money doesn't really hurt. What good would a million dollars do me?"

They had reached the office by this time and made themselves busy with the final papers. Presently came Gresham and all the Wobbleses, concluded their business, and took their two and a half million dollars and happily departed.

Loring glared after Gresham in a fury of anger. He had seen that gentleman, before he left, slip a square white card under the papers on Johnny's desk; and, though he did not conjecture what the card might be, he knew from the curl of Gresham's lips that it meant some covert trick or insult. Turning, he was about indignantly to call Johnny's attention to the circ.u.mstance when the beaming expression upon his friend's face stopped him, and sealed any explanation that might have risen to his lips. Johnny had found the card and was reading it with glistening eyes.

"Constance Joy!" he said delightedly. "She must have called." He was lost in pleasant thought for a moment or so and then he looked eagerly up at Loring with: "I wonder if there isn't some way, besides Birchard's, that a fellow could make a million dollars in a day!"

CHAPTER XXI