Skinner began to look at the scheme from various angles, as was his custom in every business transaction. Was there any danger of Honey finding him out? No. She never saw the check-book, only the bank-book, and when he had that balanced he'd be careful to attend to it himself. She 'd never even see the canceled checks. Surely, there was no sin in it. He had a right to do what he liked with his own money. And he was n't really doing _anything_ with it, after all, simply passing it around in a harmless circle. But would n't he be deceiving her, his best friend?--putting her in a fool's paradise? Well, by jingo, he _would_ put her in a fool's paradise and let her revel in it, for once in her life, and before she had a chance to find out, he'd make it a _real_ paradise--he did n't know just how, but he would! Skinner stepped off the train at Meadeville and threaded his way between the glaring, throbbing automobiles to the slush-covered sidewalk. He no longer felt his customary resentment of these social pretenders that whizzed by him in their devil-wagons--leaving him to inhale the stench of their gasoline. In a way, he was one of them now. By his ingenious little scheme of circulating his own money, strictly in his own domestic circle, he had elected himself to the bluffer class, and he felt strangely light-hearted. Besides, he was no more of a "four-flush" financier than most of the automobile contingent, at that. When he reached his house, he ran up the steps with a radiant face. Honey was waiting for him at the door, her lithe little figure and mass of chestnut hair, done up on top of her head, silhouetted against the light in the hall. She kissed him, and in her eagerness literally dragged him into the hall and shut the door. "Dearie, you've done it! I know by your face you've done it!" "Eh-huh!" "Now, don't tell me how much till I show you something!" She drew him into the dining-room and pointed to the table where a wonderful dinner was waiting. "Look, Dearie, oysters to begin with, and later--beefsteak! Think of it! Beefsteak! And, look--those flowers! Just to celebrate the occasion! I was so sure you'd get it! And, now, Dearie, tell me--how much did they appreciate you?" Skinner was swept off his feet by her enthusiasm. He threw caution to the winds--that is, after he'd made a lightning calculation. It would n't cost any more, so why be a "piker"? "Ten dollars," he said with affected quiet. Honey came over to Dearie, flung her arms around his neck, put her head on his shoulder, and looking up into his face, with eyes brimming with happiness, sighed, "Dearie, I'm so happy! So happy for _you_!" And Skinner felt that the lie was justified. He put his hand up and pressed her glossy head close to his breast and looking over her shoulder winked solemnly at the wall! "And now, Dearie," said Honey, when they were seated at the table, "tell me! You actually bearded that old pig in his pen--my hero?" "Eh-huh!"