They went in to dinner now, and Stanley was seated by the side of Helen. Not only that, but the young lady gave him as much of her attention and conversation as she could, without being actually discourteous to the other guests. Two handsome girls, her classmates at Vassar, were in the dinner party.
It was evident that Stanley had made a good impression on Miss Ranfelt. He, on his part, thoroughly enjoyed himself. He could flirt with a pretty girl as well as the next one, and Helen Ranfelt was undeniably extremely pretty.
“What’s the matter with that fellow?” thought Stanley once, when he happened to look across the table and found Burnham glowering at him. “Wonder if I’ve given offense to Mr. Burnham?”
The truth was that he had given offense. Victor Burnham had gone so far as to tell L. K. Ranfelt that he would like to marry his daughter. The mine owner’s reply was that he could not interfere with her desires in the way of matrimony. If Helen wanted to marry Burnham, why, he would consider it, then. For the present, he had nothing to say.
“You give me permission to try for her, then?” Burnham had said.
“Sure! Go in and win—if you can. I can trust Helen to act according to her conscience.”
This conversation had taken place on this very afternoon, and Burnham had been trying to make up his mind when he would speak to Helen. Now in came this young man from New York, who had the advantage of having rescued her from death, and it was evident that the girl had eyes for nobody else. Burnham felt that he had good reason for glowering at Stanley Downs.
It was after dinner, when the four men were in the billiard room, enjoying cigars and cigarettes before joining the ladies in the drawing-room, that the subject of the big motor race came up.
“I am interested in it,” remarked Ranfelt casually. “I have a few thousand dollars invested, and I certainly mean to see it pulled off. Colonel Frank Prentiss is an old friend of mine, and I have no doubt he will make it a success. I wish I could drive in the race. It would be an easy way of picking up twenty thousand dollars, to say nothing of the cup, which is said to be worth a thousand or so.”
“The Lawrence Cup,” murmured Stanley Downs thoughtfully. “By the way, Mr. Ranfelt, who is offering the cup? Do you know?”