The Fortune Hunter | Page 7

after a single glance,
forbore to question his return; he was to be counted upon for tact, was
Kellogg. Now he strangled surprise by turning to the fourth member of
the party.
"Nat," he said, "I want you to meet Mr. Bartlett. Mr. Bartlett, Mr.
Duncan."
A wholesome smile dawned on Duncan's face as he encountered the
blank blue stare of a young man whose very smooth and very bright red

face was admirably set off by semi-evening dress. "Great Scott!" he
cried, warmly pressing the lackadaisical hand that drifted into his.
"Willy Bartlett--after all these years!"
A sudden animation replaced the vacuous stare of the blue eyes.
"Duncan!" he stammered. "I say, this is rippin'!"
"As bad as that?" Duncan essayed an accent almost English and nodded
his appreciation of it: something which Bartlett missed completely.
He was very young--a very great deal younger, Duncan thought, than
when they had been classmates, what time Duncan shared his rooms
with Kellogg: very much younger and suffering exquisitely from
over-sophistication. His drawl barely escaped being inimitable; his air
did not escape it. "Smitten with my old trouble," Duncan appraised him:
"too much money... Heaven knows I hope he never recovers!"
As for Willy, he was momentarily more nearly human than he had
seemed from the moment of his first appearance. "You know," he
blurted, "this is simply extraordinary. I say, you chaps, Duncan and I
haven't met for years--not since he graduated. We belonged to the same
frat, y'know, and had a jolly time of it, if he was an upper-class man.
No side about him at all, y'know--absolutely none whatever. Whenever
I had to go out on a spree, I'd always get Nat to show me round."
"I was pretty good at that," Duncan admitted a trifle ruefully.
But Willy rattled on, heedless. "He knew more pretty gels, y'know... I
say, old chap, d'you know as many now?"
Duncan shook his head. "The list has shrunk. I'm a changed man,
Willy."
"Ow, I say, you're chawfin'," Willy argued incredulously. "I don't
believe that, y'know--hardly. I say, you remember the night you
showed me how to play faro bank?"
"I'll never forget it," Duncan told him gravely. "And I remember what a
plug we thought my room-mate was because he wouldn't come with
us." He nodded significantly toward the amused Kellogg.
"Not him!" cried Willy, expostulant. "Not really? Why it cawn't be!"
"Fact," Duncan assured him. "He was working his way through college,
you see, whereas I was working my way through my allowance--and
then some. That's why you never met him, Willy: he worked--and got
the habit. We loafed--with the same result. That's why he's useful and
you're ornamental, and I'm--" He broke off in surprise. "Hello!" he said

as Robbins offered a tray to the three on which were slim-stemmed
glasses filled with a pale yellow, effervescent liquid. "Why the blond
waters of excitement, please?" he inquired, accepting a glass.
From across the room Larry Miller's voice sounded. "Are you ready,
gentlemen? We'll drink to him first and then he can drink to his royal
little self. To the boy who's getting on in the world! To the junior
member of L.J. Bartlett and Company!"
Long applauded loudly: "Hear! Hear!" And even Willy Bartlett chimed
in with an unemotional: "Good work!" Mechanically Duncan downed
the toast; Kellogg was the only man not drinking it, and from that the
meaning was easily to be inferred. With a stride Duncan caught his
hand and crushed it in his own.
"Harry," he said a little huskily, "I can't tell you how glad I am! It's the
best news I've had in years!"
Kellogg's responsive pressure was answer enough. "It makes it doubly
worth while, to win out and have you all so glad!" he said.
"So you've taken him into the firm, eh?" Duncan inquired of Bartlett.
The blue eyes widened stonily. "The governor has. I'm not in the
business, y'know. Never had the slightest turn for it, what?" Willy set
aside his glass. "I say, I must be moving. No, I cawn't stop, Kellogg,
really. I was dressin' at the club and Larry told me about it, so I just
dropped round to tell you how jolly glad I am."
"Your father hadn't told you, then?"
"Who, the governor?" Willy looked unutterably bored. "Why, he gave
up tryin' to talk business with me long ago. I can't get interested in it,
'pon my word. Of course I knew he thought the deuce and all of you,
but I hadn't an idea they were goin' to take you into the firm. What?"
Long and Miller interrupted, proposing adieus which Kellogg vainly
contended.
"Why, you're only just here--" he expostulated.

"Cawn't help it, old chap," Willy assured him earnestly. "I must go,
anyway. I've