"No, indeed; hunting a job," responded Polly. "This machine and the services of its chauffeur and messenger girl are for rent to you only, for the day, at the price of a nice party when you get that million. We have to be in on the excitement."
"Hotel Midas," Johnny crisply directed, and jumped into the tonneau, whereupon the chauffeur touched one finger to her bonnet, and the machine leaped forward.
"You're lazy," chided Constance. "We've been waiting twenty minutes. We were afraid you might be gone, but they told us that you had not yet come down."
"If I'd known you were coming I'd have been at the curb before daybreak," grinned Johnny. "You're in some rush this morning."
"There must be some rushing if you have that million dollars by four o'clock," laughed Constance. "Polly and I want you to have it."
"You're right that I'll have to go some," he admitted.
"Excuse the chauffeur for interrupting your conversation," protested Polly, turning round and deftly missing a venturesome banana cart; "but you grabbed off half a million of it on a holiday."
"It was twelve-thirty this morning when we took Gresham," claimed Johnny. "This is a working-day."
"Hotel Midas," announced the chauffeur, pulling up to that flamboyant new hostelry with a flourish.
Johnny hurried in to the desk, where Mr. Boise had already left word that Mr. Gamble should be shown right up. He found that fatigue-proof old Westerner shining from his morning ablutions, as neat as a pin from head to foot, and smoking his after-breakfast cigar in a parlor which had not so much as a tidy displaced. His eyes twinkled the moment he saw Johnny.