"But, confound it, I don't like to. It's so inhumanly ungrateful." The frown deepened. "Besides, when this intoxication is off I'll realize what a lot I'm accepting from you. That house, for instance. You didn't buy a place of that kind for an investment or for yourself alone. I'm not an absolute ass. You'll want it all some of these times, and then--" Slowly Roberts faced about; equally slowly he smiled. "Would it relieve your mind any," he finally asked, "if I were to promise to tell you the moment I do want it--all?" "Yes, a lot." "I give you my word then." "Thanks. I believe that too; but--" For the second time Roberts smiled, the smile of finality unquestionable. "Must we return and go through it all again?" he asked. "It's after midnight now, but if you wish--" "No; not that either." "All right. I'll send the office-boy around in the morning to help you move. He has nothing else really to do." Roberts paused at a sudden thought. "By the way, I'll not be back until a week from to-morrow. Suppose we have a little housewarming, just we four--strangers, that night?" and before the other could answer, before the complex suggestion in its entirety took effect, he was gone. CHAPTER IV COMPREHENSION It was three o'clock in the afternoon of a sultry July Sunday when a big red roadster drew up all but noiselessly and, with an instinct common to all motorists, a heritage from an equine age past, stopped at the nose of the hitching-post in front of the Gleason cottage. In it the single occupant throttled down the engine until it barely throbbed. Alighting, goggles on forehead, he passed up the walk toward the house. Not until he was fairly at the steps did he apparently notice his surroundings. Then, unexpectedly, he bared his head. "Be not surprised, it is I," he said. "Not in the spirit alone but in the flesh." Equally without warning he smiled. "Needless to say I'm glad to see you again, Elice," as he took the girl's offered hand. Then deliberately releasing it: "and you too, Armstrong," extending his own. Precisely as, with his companion of the shady porch, he had risen upon the newcomer's advent, the other man stood there. If possible his face, already unnaturally pale for a torrid afternoon, shaded whiter as an instant passed without his making a motion in response. "And you too, Armstrong," Roberts repeated, the smile still on his face, the hand still extended; then, when there still came no response, the voice lowered until it was just audible, but nevertheless significant in its curt brevity: "Shake whether you want to or not. There are seven pairs of eyes watching from behind that trellis across the street." Armstrong obeyed as though moved by a wire. "Speak loud, so they can all hear. They're listening too," directed the low-voiced mentor. Armstrong, red in the face now, formulated the conventional.