Got that ?" "Yes, sir.

Any other message, sir ?" "No.

But be sure you get him up, for me! Good-bye!" Thirty minutes later, Flint's chauffeur opened the door of the big limousine, in front of the huge Renaissance pile that Waldron's millions had raised on land which had cost him more than as though he had covered it with double eagles; and Flint himself ascended the steps of Pentelican marble.

The limousine, its varnish and silver-plate flashing in the bright spring sun, stood by the curb, purring softly to itself with all six cylinders, a thing of matchless beauty and rare cost.

The chauffeur, on the driver's seat, did not even bother to shut off the gas, but let the engine run, regardless.