“I’ll be back as soon as I settle with the chauffeur,” said Frank, but his friend did not appear to hear him. He was moving his head from side to side and mumbling incoherent words, such as “pick of locations,” “the ideal place gone—gone!”
Frank paid the chauffeur and came back into the hotel. He paused at the clerk’s desk long enough to order a pitcher of ice water for their room. He was starting for the elevator when a hearty slap on the back caused him to turn sharply.
“Hi, hello!” piped a cheery voice, and there was Pep Smith, brisk and lively as ever, his face on a broad grin.
“I had to bring him along, Durham,” spoke Mr. Strapp, extending his hand to his favorite.
“You bet he did!” cried Pep. “Why, as soon as that telegram came saying ‘All right,’ I told Mr. Strapp you had run against something big or you would never have wired so soon. We were at the depot inside of ten minutes and just caught the fast train.”
“Is it ‘All right,’ Durham?” inquired the ex-ranchman, showing more curiosity than doubt, as to the judgment of his young business associate.
“Mr. Strapp,” replied Frank animatedly, “it’s more than all right. It’s so good that I couldn’t take the risk of any delay. If I am not mistaken I have stumbled across one of those chances that come around about once in a lifetime.”
“Say, what is it?” pressed the excitable Pep, fairly wriggling with suspense.
“There’s something to tell before we get down to the real kernel of the proposition,” explained Frank. “Come up to the room and I’ll unfold my story. It has been quite an exciting one.”
“You don’t say so!” observed the Westerner. “Our wise old friend been making you some trouble?”