"Nonsense," said Minot. "A business proposition, solely, from my point of view. There's no thanks coming to me." "It seems to me," said George Harrowby, "that as the only victor in this affair, you don't exhibit a proper cheerfulness. By the way, we'd be delighted to take you north on our boat. Why not--" But Minot shook his head. "Can't spare the time--thank you just the same," he replied. "I'd like nothing better--" Amid expressions of regret, the Harrowbys started for the elevator. Minot walked along the dusky corridor with them. "We've had a bit of excitement--what?" said Allan. "If you're ever in London, you're to be my guest. Old George has some sort of a berth for me over there--" "Not a berth, Allan," objected George, pressing the button for the elevator. "You're not going to sleep. A job. Might as well begin to talk the Chicago language now. Mr. Minot, I, too, want to thank you--" They stepped into the elevator, the door slammed, the car began to descend. Minot stood gazing through the iron scroll work until the blond head of the helpless Lord Harrowby moved finally out of sight. Then he returned to his room and the time-tables, which seemed such dull unhappy reading. Mr. Jack Paddock appeared to invite Minot to take dinner with him. His bags, he remarked, were all packed, and he was booked for the seven o'clock train. "I've slipped down the mountain of gold," he said in the course of the dinner. "But all good things must end, and I certainly had a good thing. Somehow, I'm not so gloomy as I ought to be." "Where are you going, Jack?" Minot asked. Mr. Paddock leaned over confidentially. "Did I say her father was in the plumbing business?" he inquired. "My error, Dick. He owns a newspaper--out in Grand Rapids. Offered me a job any time I wanted it. Great joke then--pretty serious now. For I'm going out to apply." "I'm glad of it." "So am I, Dick. I was a fool to let her go back like that. Been thinking it all over--and over--one girl in--how many are there in the world, should you say? The other day I had a chill. It occurred to me maybe she'd gone and married the young man with the pale purple necktie who passes the plate in the Methodist Church. So I beat it to the telegraph counter. And--" "She's heart whole and fancy free?" "O.K. in both respects. So it's me for Grand Rapids. And say, Dick, I--er--I want you to know I'd sent that telegram before the accident last night. As a matter of fact, I sent it two days ago." "Good boy," said Minot. "I knew this game down here didn't satisfy you. May I be the first to wish you joy?" "You? With a face like a defeated candidate? I say, cheer up! She'll stretch out eager arms in your direction yet." "I don't believe it, Jack." "Well, while there's life there's still considerable hope lying loose about the landscape. That's why I don't urge you to take the train with me."