A servant came out of the library.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he remarked, “but I believe this must be your hat, Mr. Gamble.”

Johnny broke one of his most rigid rules.  He said:  “Damn!”

CHAPTER XX

IN WHICH JOHNNY ASKS HIMSELF WHAT IS A MILLION DOLLARS, ANYWAY

Johnny Gamble in the following days was, as Loring put it, a scene of intense activity.  It was part of his contract with the improvement company that he put their subdivision plans under way; and he planted himself in the center of the new offices while things circled round him at high speed.  His persistent use of the fast-gear clutch came from the fact that he would not bind himself to work for them more than two weeks.

“They’re handing me a shameful salary for it,” he confided to Loring, “and I’m glad to get it because it pays up all my personal expenses during my forty-days’ stunt and leaves me my million clear.”

“Well,” began Loring with a smile, “your million won’t be”—­he suddenly checked himself and then went on—­“won’t be a nice pretty sum of money unless it ends in the six round ciphers.”

He had been about to tell Johnny that he owed fifteen thousand dollars to Constance Joy.  Loring reflected, however, that this could be paid just as well after it was all over; that, if he told about it now, Johnny would drop everything to make that extra fifteen thousand; that, moreover, Constance had not yet given him permission to mention the matter; and, besides, there seemed to be a present coolness between Constance and Johnny which nobody understood.  On the whole, it was better to keep his mouth shut; and he did it.

“It’s rather a nice-sounding word,—­million,” he added by way of concealing his hesitation.

“I don’t know,” returned Johnny, full of his perplexity about Constance.  “I’m tired of hearing the word.  Sometimes it makes me sick to think of it.”

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” reproached Loring with a laugh.

“All right,” agreed Johnny accommodatingly.  “I’m used to that anyhow.  For one thing, I’m ashamed of being such a sucker.  That old partner of mine not only stung me for every cent I could scrape together for two years, but actually had the nerve to try to sell the big tract of land we irrigated with money.”

“To sell it!” exclaimed Loring in surprise.

“That’s all,” returned Johnny.  “He went to the Western Developing Company with it two months ago and had them so worked up that they looked into the title.  They even sent a man out there to investigate.”

“Flivver, I suppose?” guessed Loring.

“Rank,” corroborated Johnny.  “Washburn, of the Western Developing, was telling me about it yesterday.  He said his man took one look at the land and came back offering to go six blocks out of his way on a busy Monday to see Collaton hung.”