"But we haven’t been shot out of the tree yet. Things will begin to come our way now, you see if they don’t. I’ve got a proposition to submit to you that will make us both rich—regular gold mine, with not a dull moment in it—life from beginning to end. I can’t, tell you now, but hold yourself in readiness for it. You can take that thirty and maybe win a hundred at the Wexton. In the meantime I’ll be perfecting my plans. We shall need four or five agents, but I can get them all right, and if we don’t live in clover a bumble bee never did. Now, don’t you feel better? Look at me." "Yes, I feel better." "And don’t you believe we’ll pull out all right? Hah?" He put his hand on Bodney’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Yes, I do." "Of course you do. We have been living in the night, but the sun is rising now. Let’s go over to the Wexton and eat dinner." "I ought to stay here till Howard comes back." "Why, just to tell him you are going out? If you go out he’ll know you are gone, won’t he?" "You go on and I will come pretty soon. I said something to Howard just now that I want to correct." "All right," said Goyle. "But come over as soon as you can." When Howard returned he found Bodney idly drawing comic pictures on a sheet of paper. He looked at him in astonishment. "Why, what has happened?" Howard asked. "My fit’s passed, that’s all. I must have talked like a wild man." "I rather think you did. You alarmed me—said you were worse than ruined. What has occurred to change it all?" Bodney laughed as he looked about, making ready to take his leave. He was beginning to be restless, for the fever was rising fast. He turned his eye inward to look for full hands and flushes. "Nothing has occurred," said he. "The fit of melancholy has simply passed. That’s all." He was moving toward the door. "Don’t be in a hurry," said Howard. "There is something I want to talk about." "I haven’t time now," Bodney replied. "I have thought of something that must be attended to at once." "Just a moment, George. Hasn’t Goyle been here?" "Goyle? No, not today. And, by the way," he added, turning toward Howard, "I think I must have spoken rashly about him just now. There is nothing wrong in his make-up; he may appear queer, but he’s all right when you come down to principle. He thinks the world of you." "I don’t want him to think anything of me."