“You're as fast as a second-story worker, Joey. I shall kiss the bride.” And Cappy did. Then he sat down and stared at the fruit of his cunning labors.
“Well, well, well!” cried Joey. “Kick in, godfather, kick in. You owe me twenty-five thousand dollars, and if I'm going to support a wife I'll need it.”
Cappy summoned Mr. Skinner, who felicitated the happy pair and departed pursuant to Cappy's order, to make out a check for Joey.
“And now,” said Cappy, as he handed the groom his winnings, “you get out of here with your bride, Joey, and I'll telephone Florry and we'll organize a wedding supper. And to-morrow morning, Joey, I'd like to see you at ten o'clock, if you can manage to be here.”
Joey promised, and hastened away with his bride.
CHAPTER XXXII
True to his word he presented himself in Cappy's lair promptly at ten next morning. The old gentleman was sitting rigidly erect on the extreme edge of his chair; in his hand he held a typewritten statement with a column of figures on it, and he eyed Joey very appraisingly over the rims of his spectacles.
“My boy,” he said solemnly, “sit down. I'm awfully glad you cabled that hula-hula girl of yours in Reno that the stuff was all off.”