"It's fate!" chuckled Mr. Fry. "It is fate and nothing else, Johnson. Out of all the millions in New York, one man—absolutely unknown to, unsuspected by, either you or me—is coming to take this seat, doubtless for the star bout."
"But——"
"To that man," said Anthony, "I shall offer opportunity!"
"What d'ye mean? Money?" Johnson Boller asked incredulously.
"It will involve money, doubtless; I can afford a little."
"Well, you go and poke a handful of bills into a man's face and all you're going to prove is that——"
"I have no idea of doing anything of the sort," Anthony said impatiently. "What I purpose doing is simply this: I shall——"
Johnson Boller had recovered from the first shock. He drew a long, deep breath, and, leaning over to his old friend, placed a firm, strong hand on his knee and looked soothingly into his kindled eye.
"Listen, Anthony!" said he. "Don't!"
"Eh? You've no notion of what I mean to do," Anthony said briefly.