Cosden was not universally popular. He won his victories by sheer force of determination and ability rather than by diplomacy or finesse. In business dealings he had the reputation of being a hard man, demanding his full pound of flesh and getting it, but he was scrupulously exact in meeting his own obligations in the same spirit. To an extent this characteristic was apparent in everything he did; but to those who came to know him it ceased to be offensive because of other, more agreeable qualities which went with it. They learned that, after all, money to him was only the means to an end which he could not have secured without it. To the man whose ruling passion is his business it is natural to measure himself and his actions by the same yardstick which has yielded full return in his office; to him whose property stands simply as a counter and medium of exchange the measure of life is inevitably different. The good-natured chaffing at the Club was forgotten by Huntington before he stepped into his automobile, but it still remained in Cosden's mind. As the car rolled out of the Club grounds he turned to his companion. "Monty," he said, "what is there so different about us that it attracts comment?" "We should have found out if you hadn't snapped together like a steel trap. There was the chance of a lifetime to learn all about ourselves, and you shut them off by saying, 'If we're satisfied, whose concern is it, anyhow?'" "Of course we are different," Cosden continued; "that's only natural. No two fellows are alike. I wonder if what you said about our being bachelors hasn't more truth than poetry in it.--Give me a light from your pipe." "What is the connection?" Cosden suddenly became absorbed and gave no sign that he heard the question. When he spoke his words seemed still more irrelevant. "Monty," he said seriously, "I want you to take a little trip with me for perhaps two or three weeks, or longer. What do you say?" Huntington showed no surprise. "It might possibly be arranged," he said. Again Cosden relapsed into silence, puffing vigorously at his cigar as was his habit when excited. Huntington watched him curiously, wondering what lay behind. "Did you ever try smoking a cigar with a vacuum cleaner?" he asked maliciously. "They say it draws beautifully, and consumes the cigar in one-tenth the time ordinarily required by a human being." Cosden was oblivious to his raillery. "What do you think of marriage?" he demanded abruptly. The question, and the serious manner in which it was asked, succeeded in rousing Huntington to a point of interest. "What do I think of-- So that's the idea, is it, Connie? That's why you picked me up on what I said about bachelors? Good heavens, man! you haven't made up your mind to marry me off like this without my consent?" "Of course not," Cosden answered, with some impatience; "but what do you think of the idea in general?"