“Easily. I know the man best for your purpose. I'll telephone, and if he's in New York he'll come to see you this afternoon.” “Thank you.” She started out, then turned. “Better finish your business with him to-day if you can. We go to the country to-morrow or the day after. I've just had word that the workmen are finally out of the house; though the grounds, of course, are in bad shape, and will probably remain so. With this labor situation, it's practically impossible to get men.” Larry remembered something else. “Miss Sherwood, you recall my once speaking about a man I got to be friends with in prison--Joe Ellison?” “Yes.” “I've written him, under an assumed name, of course, and have had an answer. He'll be out in a very few days now. He's through with his old ways. I know he'd like nothing better than a quiet place to work, off to himself somewhere. I'm sure you can trust him.” “We'll arrange to have him come out to Cedar Crest. Oh, don't think I'm being generous or sentimental,” she interrupted smilingly as he started to thank her. “I'd be glad to put two or three more ex-convicts to work on our place if I could get them. And so would my friends; they can't get workmen of any kind.” That afternoon the picture dealer came. Miss Sherwood introduced Larry to him as Mr. Brandon, her cousin, and then left the two men together. Larry appraised Mr. Graham as a shrewd man who knew his business and who would like to score a triumph in his own particular field. He decided that the dealer had to be handled with a great deal of frankness, and with some stiff bluffing which must appear equally frank. The secret of Larry's earlier success had been to establish confidence and even enthusiasm in something which had little or no value. In selling an honest thing at an honest price, the first and fundamental procedure was the same, to establish confidence and, if possible, enthusiasm. From the moment of introduction Larry quietly assumed the manner of an art collector who was very sure of himself; which manner was abetted by the setting of the Sherwood library. He felt something of the old zest when wits had been matched against wits, even though this was to be a strictly honorable enterprise. “You know the work of Mr. Jerome Hunt?” he asked. “I have handled practically all his work since he began to sell,” replied Mr. Graham. “I was referring to work in his recent manner.” “He has not been doing any work recently,” corrected Mr. Graham. “No?” Larry picked up the Italian mother which for this occasion he had mounted with thumb-tacks upon a drawing-board, and stood it upon a chair in the most advantageous light. “There is a little thing in Mr. Hunt's recent manner which I lately purchased.” Mr. Graham regarded the painting long and critically. Finally he remarked: “At least it is different.” “Different and better,” said Larry with his quiet positiveness. “So much better that I paid him three thousand dollars for it.”