“I think,” Herr Nathan observed complacently, “we can take care of them.”
“I hope so! I want to see those bonds make good some day.”
“Don’t be in a hurry to sell your bonds, young man. That is my best advice,” the banker said gravely.
“I’ll tell Mel—my principal what you say,” Brainard laughed back. “Now good day to you, gentlemen, and good hunting!”
Herr Adolf shook the young man’s hand cordially.
“If you ever want a business—after you have discovered this mysterious heir to Mr. Krutzmacht—why, come over here to me, and I will make a financier of you!”
“Thanks!”
Brainard sauntered slowly down the crowded boulevard. He had before him seven more days of Paris—seven beautiful June days. For he had resolved to give himself one week of pure vacation in Paris as payment for services performed for his unknown principal. Thus seriously did he hold himself to his mission.
At the end of the week he would take the first fast steamer for New York, and begin the hunt for an heir for the money he had obtained from old Krutzmacht’s property—for that shadowy Melody whose name so persistently haunted his imagination. But now how best could he spend these last precious hours of freedom and delight which he had well earned?
The young American with two million dollars in his pockets paused beside the curb and watched the brilliant stream of Paris life flow past him for many minutes. Then he beckoned to a cab, and drove to a steamship office, where he engaged passage for that day week from Cherbourg. Next he went to a tailor, and ordered clothes to replace his Chicago ready-made suit, which no longer satisfied his aspirations in the way of personal appearance. He did not mean to go shabby any longer, no matter what fate might be in store for him at the close of his present adventure.