“What college?”
“Here, in Evanston.”
“So?”
They were now standing in front of the wide grounds of G. Hyde Bigelow. Peeping out from its screen of trees, far back behind the spacious lawn, could be seen the granite turrets of Mr. Bigelow's new house. The owner turned toward them as he reflected.
“I will tell you what you do, Mr.—Mr. ————”
“Le Duc.”
“Mr. Le Duc. You come to my office to-morrow at eleven. I think that by that time I will have a proposition that will interest you. Meantime, suppose we let this matter stand just where it is now. Is that satisfactory?”
“Why—certainly; perfectly so.”
“Very well, I shall look for you to-morrow at eleven. Good-night.”
“Maybe I had better leave one of my cards with you, sir.”