The Fortune Hunter | Page 7

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 a dinner engagement."
"You'll be late, won't you?"
"Doesn't matter in the least; I'm always late. 'Night, Kellogg. Congratulations again."
"We just dropped round to take off our hats to you," Long continued, pumping Kellogg's hand.
"And tell you what a good fellow we think you are," added Miller, following suit.
"You don't know how good you make me feel," Kellogg told them.
Under cover of this diversion Duncan was making one last effort to slip away; but before he could gather together his impedimenta and get to the door Willy Bartlett intercepted him.
"I say, Duncan--"
"Oh, hell!" said Duncan beneath his breath. He paused ungraciously enough.
"We've got to see a bit of one another, now we've met again, y'know. Wish you'd look me up--Half Moon Club'll get me 'most any time. We'll have to arrange to make a regular old-fashioned night of it, just for memory's sake."
Duncan nodded, edging past him. "I've memories enough," he said.
"Right-oh! Any reason at all, y'know, just so we have the night."
"Good enough," assented Duncan vaguely. He suffered his hand to be wrung with warmth. "I'll not forget--good-night." Then he