“Too bad,” regretted Loring still smiling.  “I just saw Constance and Polly.  They’re going out.”

Johnny promptly slammed several sheets of figures into a drawer.

“Is there room for me in your car?” he asked anxiously.

“Val Russel and Bruce Townley are with me.  There’s plenty of room—­ but you really ought to stay here and figure on your hotel,” Loring advised him.

“I can figure any place,” stated Johnny briskly, and put away his little book.  “Are we ready?”

The eyes of Constance Joy lighted with pleasure as she saw the group which filed into the box adjoining the one in which she sat with Polly Parsons, Paul Gresham, Colonel Bouncer, and Sammy Chirp; and Gresham watched her discontentedly as she shook hands with Gamble.  He did not like the cordiality of that hand-shake, nor yet the animation of her countenance.  Neither did he like her first observation, which consisted not of any remarks about health or the weather, but about Johnny’s intimate personal affairs.

“How is the million dollars coming on?” she had interestedly inquired, and then sat down in Gresham’s own chair, next to the dividing rail.  “You know, I promised to keep score for you.”

“You may mark me a goose-egg for today,” replied Johnny, sitting comfortably beside her with only the thin board partition between them.

Gresham, his dark eyebrows meeting in a sinister line across his forehead, smiled with grim satisfaction.

“People with money seem to be watching it on Mondays,” he observed.

“They have to sleep some time,” Polly quickly reminded him.  “Your day for a nap was Saturday.”

“I’m guilty,” admitted Gresham with a frowning glance at Johnny.  “My trance—­day before yesterday—­cost me fifteen thousand.  I shan’t forget it soon.”

“I’ll bet you never will!” Polly agreed.

“Johnny was awake that day,” declared Colonel Bouncer, laughing heartily and reaching over to slap Gamble affectionately on the shoulder.  “He’s fifteen thousand better off; and I guess he won’t forget that in a hurry.”

“I’ve forgotten it now,” asserted Johnny.  “Colonel, I want to talk with you about some stock in a big hotel opposite the new terminal station.”

“Bless my soul—­no!” almost shouted the colonel.  “I nearly got tangled up in my friend Courtney’s terminal hotel scheme—­and I’m scared yet.”

“Courtney?” repeated Johnny.  “That’s the name they gave me at Mallard & Tyne’s office this afternoon.  They told me that he has tied up the only available block the railroad company overlooked.”

“Tied it up!” exploded the colonel.  “Bless my soul, it has him tied up!  Courtney’s company blew so high that none of the pieces has come down yet.  Meantime his enthusiasm is likely to cost him a round two and a quarter million dollars.”

He must have had a high fever,” commented Johnny.  “How could a man be so forgetful of that much money?”