I come near swallowin' the bait too; for I'd turned over some Bronx buildin' lots not long before at a nice little advance, and the kale was only drawin' three per cent. Course this Sucker Brook chunk ain't much to look at, a strip of marshy ground along the railroad; but half a mile away they're sellin' villa plots, and acreage is mighty scarce so near the city line as we are. Took me a week of scoutin' among my friends to discover that this gang of real estate philanthropists had bought up the Sucker Brook tract on a private tip that a trolley extension was goin' to be put through there. So it might have been too, only a couple of the County Board members who was tryin' to pull off another deal got busy and blocked the franchise. Then it was a case of unload, with me runnin' as favorite in the Easy Mark Handicap. And now here comes Elisha P., straight out of the Trust Company, to spring the trapdoor himself. "Why, yes, Mr. Bayne," says I. "I've chewed it over some; but I ain't quite made up my mind to take it on." "You haven't!" says he, his nice, white, respectable eyebrows showin' great surprise. "But, my dear man, I personally had that offer made to you. Why, we could have---- But never mind that. I hope you may see fit to give us your answer by Saturday noon." "That depends," says I, "on whether you come for it or not." "I beg pardon?" says he, starin'. "At the studio," says I, shovin' over one of my professional cards. "That's where I do business. So long, Mr. Bayne." And with that I throws in the clutch and leaves him gawpin'! "Why, Shorty!" says Sadie. "How horrid of you! And Mr. Bayne is such a nice old gentleman too!" "Yes, ain't he?" says I. "And for smoothness he's got a greased plank lookin' like a graveled walk." I didn't think he'd come after that. But the other lines they had out must have been hauled in empty; for not ten days later I has a 'phone call from him sayin' he's in town and that if it's convenient he'll drop around about three P.M. "I'll be here," says I. "And I trust," he adds, "that I--er--may not encounter any pugilists or--er----" "You'll be safe," says I, "unless some of my Wall Street customers break office rules and try to ring you in on a margin deal. Outside of them, or now and then a railroad president, the studio has a quiet, refined patronage." "Ah, thanks," says he. "Swifty," says I to my assistant, "don't show yourself in the front office after three to-day. I'm goin' to entertain a pillar of society, and a sight of that mug of yours might get him divin' through the window." "Ahr-r-r-r chee!" remarks Swifty Joe, catchin' the wink.