He knew that whoever
was going to buy those lots was going to buy them because he had to
have them--because they were essential to some project. And he simply
sat tight.
"To make the story short--how much do you think we paid for them? Ten
thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars cash. And he made us pay the
cost of the transfer. You remember that, Elden? We laughed over it at
the time. Then he immediately re-invested his little fortune, and
to-day-- It's the story of hundreds."
Elden was glad when Mrs. Hardy remembered that she must not remain up
late. Her physician had prescribed rest. Early to bed, you know.
Still, Mr. Conward's anecdotes were so refreshing, so suggestive of
that--what is it you call it?--that spirit of the West, etc. Dave had
opportunity for just a word with Irene before they left.
"How did this happen--to-night?" he asked, with the calm assumption of
one who has a right to know.
"Oh, Mr. Conward telephoned an invitation to mother," she explained.
"I was so glad you happened in. You have had wonderful experiences; it
must be inspiring--ennobling--to take such part in the building of a
new city; something that will be here forever as a monument to the men
of this generation. Mr. Conward is charming, isn't he?"
Dave did not know whether the compliment to Conward was a personal
matter concerning his partner, or whether it was to be taken as a
courtesy to the firm. In either case he rather resented it.
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