“Eh—eh?” exclaimed Cranny, almost stammering in his eagerness. “What! Do you really mean it, dad?”
“That depends, son.”
“Upon what?”
“You.”
Cranny sank into a chair with a great sigh of relief. “Then it’s all settled,” he murmured. “Great Scott! don’t you know I’m capable of doing heroic stunts?”
“Cranny!”
“Oh, I forgot, dad. But, for goodness’ sake, do tell me.”
“I’ve heard about Mr. Warfield Carroll; he is a New York financier and promoter of recognized ability. If Mr. Carroll has considered Border City of sufficient importance to warrant his taking a prominent part in its development, I, as a business man, am inclined to look into the conditions there.”
“Ah, ha; a light breaks in upon me,” gurgled Cranny, hilariously. “You want me—me—to do the investigating; and put you wise to——”
“Cranny!”