Herman Dietz was indeed indebted to him, and he believed the old German-American would do anything, lend him any amount of money, for instance, that he might ask for.

Gray wondered why he had not thought of Dietz before he came to Texas; it would have made things much easier.

But the offer had come too late, it seemed to him; at this moment he could see no means of profiting by it without wrecking the flimsy house of cards he had that very day erected and exposing himself to ridicule, to obloquy as a rank four-flusher.
The scarcely dry headlines of that afternoon paper ran before his eyes--"_Famous Financier Admits Large Oil Interests Behind Him_." Probably there were other things in the body of the article that would not harmonize with an appeal to Haviland for funds, nor sound well to Mr.Dietz, once he learned the truth.

The more Gray pondered the matter, the more regretfully he realized that he had overplayed his hand, as it were.
Here was a situation indeed! To be occupying the most expensive suite in the hotel of a man who wished to lend him money, to be unable to pay one day's rent therefore, and yet to be stopped from accepting aid.
There was a grim irony about it, for a fact.

Then, too, the seed he had sown in banking circles, and his luncheon with the mayor! Haviland had a sense of humor; it would make a story too good to keep--the new oil operator, the magnificent and mysterious New York financier, a "deadhead" at the Ajax.