“By George!” he cried. “And to think that was the one thing I never thought of. Of course I knew about the delinquent taxes, and intended to pay them when I was good and ready; but what’s the use of forking over till you have to? But not to have thought of this! And I pride myself upon sleeping with one eye open—never was caught napping yet!” And for five minutes he exploited his vocabulary of profanity, heaping each epithet upon his own humiliated head.
Gregory laughed. “Merely another proof that two heads are better than one. Do you stand for the ten thousand? If not I’ll pay half.”
“I’d pay fifty——”
“I’ll pay half,” said Gregory definitely. “It means as much to me as to you.”
“All right. Jimminy, but they’re clever!” He was calmer and his astute legal brain was moved to admiration. “But you are cleverer. I’ve always sworn by you. They’ll get a jolt all right. How did you catch on, anyhow?”
“I fancy I got a wireless. The other man was thinking hard and so was I—had practically nothing else in our minds. Those things will be better explained some day. Perhaps it was merely a good guess.”
“You hit the nail on the head all right. I’ll have a letter to write to Ora next Sunday! She’s had a narrow squeak, and she shall know whom to thank for it.”
“Oh, cut that out.”
Gregory went to the bank and drew the ten thousand dollars, while Mark kept watch. When the bill was finally made out, Mark examined it critically, and then gave his personal checque. Three months later the County Treasurer resigned his office on the ground of ill health and bought an orange grove in Southern California. There he and his growing family enjoy a respected, prosperous, bucolic life.