"Oh, yes, dear friend, there's a stub in your check book to prove it. You simply bet $5,000 that your ideal existed. You've won. Go and be her joy and sunshine."
"I'll put an end to this whole business," said Gatewood wrathfully, "and I'll do it now!"
"Bet you that you're engaged within the week!" said Kerns with a placid smile.
The other swung around savagely: "What will you bet, Tommy? You may have what odds you please. I'll make you sit up for this."
"I'll bet you," answered Kerns, deliberately, "an entire silver dinner service against a saddle horse for the bride."
"That's a fool bet!" snapped Gatewood. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, if you don't care to—"
"What do I want of a silver service? But, all right; I'll bet you anything."
"She'll want it," replied Kerns significantly, booking the bet. "I may as well canter out to Tiffany's this morning, I fancy. . . . Where are you going, Jack?"
"To see Keen and confess what an ass I've been!" returned Gatewood sullenly, striding across the breakfast room to take his hat and gloves from the rack. And out he went, mad all over.