"That's what it is," answered Chub, breathing hard. "He's sailin' by in all kinds o' style, he and his daughter. There's a little more money added to the pile he's got in the bank, an' I hope he's satisfied."
"Tainted money, at that," growled Clip. "That last deal was the crookedest he ever worked. Where's Perry? He ought to be along."
Chub was mistaken. Dirk Hawley and his daughter were not going to "sail by." To the astonishment of all on the porch, the resplendent touring-car came to a halt in front of the McReady gate.
"They needn't call here," muttered Chub. "Come to rub it in, I suppose."
"Or to talk it over," said McReady.
"I'll go fish Lucretia Borgia out o' the cistern, that's what I'll do," flared Welcome. "Mebby I'll need 'er yet."
"Stay right where you are, old friend," cautioned McReady. "I'm ready to talk with Hawley, if that's what he's here for."
Dirk Hawley got out of the car and helped his daughter down; then the two of them came through the gate and walked toward the group on the porch.