Five Thousand an Hour: How Johnny Gamble Won the Heiress Part 32

"Why not?" inquired Johnny.

"Well--er--it's so very precipitate," responded Tommy, putting the check in his pocket and taking it out again and folding and unfolding it with uncertain fingers. "No time for deliberation and dignity and such rot, you know."

"An advance cash payment of half a million dollars is so full of dignity that its shoes squeak," announced Johnny. "As to delay, I don't see any reason for it. You want to sell the property, don't you?"

Eugene said yes, and the others looked doubtful.

"You're satisfied with the price?" demanded Johnny.

Since Eugene kept silent the others answered that they were.

"You know that by my plan you are perfectly secured until you are fully paid; so there's no reason why we shouldn't wind up the business at once."

"Should you say that this was regular, Birchard?" asked Eugene, toying with his check lovingly. He had just finished figuring that it was worth something like twenty thousand pounds!

"Quite regular indeed," Mr. Birchard smilingly a.s.sured him. "Typically American for its directness and decision, but fully as good a business transaction in every way as could be consummated in London."

"Ow, I say," protested Eugene, but he seemed perfectly satisfied, nevertheless.

"As I understand it," went on Mr. Birchard, "Mr. Gamble's proposition is very simple. You are to execute a contract of sale to him to-day, acknowledging receipt of half a million dollars' advance payment, and are at the same time to execute a clear deed that will be placed in the hands of your agent until Mr. Gamble completes his payments. The deed will then be delivered to him and properly recorded. Is this correct, Mr. Gamble?"

"I couldn't say it so well, but that's what I mean," replied Johnny.

"Then, gentlemen," continued Birchard, "I should advise you to sign the papers at once and have the matter off your minds."

Loring had everything ready, but it was Johnny who really conducted the meeting and manipulated the slow-moving Wobbleses so that they concluded the business with small waste of time.

When it was finished Johnny thanked them with intense relief. The Wobbles property was his, and he knew exactly where to sell it at a half-million dollars' profit. His tremendous race for a million was to be won, with a day or so of margin. There were a few technical matters to look after, but in reality the prize was his. He could go to Constance Joy now with a clear conscience and the ability to offer her a fortune equal to the one she would have to relinquish if she married him.

"By the way," said Johnny in parting, "who is your agent?"

"Why, I rather fancy it will be Mr. Birchard," replied Eugene. "Of course nothing is decided as yet, since there are five of us and four stubborn; but I rather fancy it will be Birchard. Eh, old chap?"

"I trust so," responded Birchard with a pleasant smile at Johnny.

CHAPTER XIX

IN WHICH THE COLONEL, MESSRS. COURTNEY, WASHER AND OTHERS SIT IN A LITTLE GAME

Morton Washer, having acquired a substantial jack-pot with the aid of four hearts and little casino, boastfully displayed the winning hand.

"Sometime, when you fellows grow up," he kindly offered, "I'll sit down to a real game of poker with you."

Courtney, keeping the bank, dived ruefully into the box for his fourth stack of chips.

"There's one thing I must say about Mort," he dryly observed: "he's cheerful when he wins."

"He can brag harder and louder than any man I ever heard," admitted iron-faced Joe Close.

Colonel Bouncer, puffing out his red cheeks and snarling affectionately at his friend Washer, corroborated that statement emphatically.

"He's bragged ever since he was a boy," he stated.

"I always had something to brag about, didn't I?" demanded Washer, his intemperate little pompadour bristling, and his waxed mustache as waspish as if he were really provoked.

"I don't know," objected the solemn-faced Courtney. "I stung you for half a million on that hotel transaction. Give me an ace, Joe."

"Never!" snapped Morton Washer, picking up his cards as they fell. "It was Johnny Gamble did that. I open this pot right under the guns for the size of it and an extra sky-blue for luck. None of you old spavins was ever able to get me single-handed. A young fellow like Johnny Gamble--that's different. It's his turn. You fellows are all afraid of my threes."

"The others might be, so I'll just help them stay out," stated Courtney kindly as he doubled Washer's bet. "By the way, speaking of Johnny Gamble, he was very anxious to get you fellows out here to-day. Now I want to give you some solemn advice, Colonel; you'd better keep away from this pot."

"Bless my soul, I have a rotten hand!" confessed Colonel Bouncer, puffing his cheeks. "But you old bluffers can't drive me out of any place; so I'll trail." And he measured up to Courtney's stack. "What's Gamble's scheme, Ben?"

"I'll have to let Johnny tell you that himself," responded Courtney as Johnny entered. "Coming into this scramble, Joe?"

"I'm a cautious man," hesitated Close, inspecting the faces of his companions with calm interest. "I don't think you or Mort have second cousins among your pasteboards, but the colonel is concealing his feelings too carefully." And he threw down his cards.

"You're most unprofessional to say so," growled the colonel. "I suppose you won't see that raise, Mort?"

"I'm not much interested," returned Washer indifferently, "so I'll just tilt it another stack." And he did so with beautiful carelessness. "On general principles I'm very favorable to any enterprise Johnny Gamble offers. Isn't that so, Johnny?"

"I hope so," replied Johnny with a laugh as he approached the table and, with perfectly blank eyes, looked down at the hand which Washer conspicuously held up to him.

Courtney cast only a fleeting glance at Johnny, whose face it would be impolite to read--also impossible--and concentrated his attention upon his old friend, Washer.

"You infernal scoundrel, I believe you have them," he decided as Washer folded his cards into the palm of his hand again.

Courtney turned for a careful inspection of the colonel. That gentleman, daintily picking a fleck of dust from his cuff, looked unconcernedly off into the sky, whistling softly, and Courtney, pushing his hand into the discard, lighted a cigar, while the colonel met Washer's raise and added a tantalizing white chip.

It was now Washer's turn for consideration, and he studied his only remaining opponent with much interest.

"Give me one card, Joe; mostly kings," he requested as he pushed in his one white chip. "What's your scheme, Johnny?" And he looked up, quite indifferent to the card he was tossing away. He picked up the one Close carefully dealt him and, without looking at it, slid it in among the other four.

"I'm ready to close with you for that Bronx subdivision," responded Johnny, acutely watching Colonel Bouncer as that gentleman asked for one card, received it and studied its countenance with polite admiration. "It's the proposition I've previously explained to all of you, but had to lay aside because I couldn't nail down the property."

"I suppose you have it now," observed Morton, pushing forward with gentle little shoves of his middle finger a very tall stack of chips arranged in three distinct and equal red, white and blue layers. He had not yet looked at his fifth card, and at Colonel Bouncer he directed but a brief and pa.s.sing glance. Did he care what the colonel held?

"I have the Wobbles estate in my pocket," replied Johnny, still watching the colonel absorbedly. "I must get you together Monday if possible."

"Wobbles!" exploded Courtney. "Did you buy that Bronx property at my party from my guests to sell to us?"

"I did," confessed Johnny with a grin. "This is a lovely party."

The poker game suspended itself for a minute, while all four of the gentlemen looked at him in contemplative admiration.