"I don’t know that my private affairs are any of your business," he said curtly. He was rather glad, now, of the chance for an outright quarrel. But she would not let it come to that, and continued in a wheedling tone: "Well, this happens to be my business, and I speak to you as a friend, Frank, for your own good as well as mine. You can take it or leave it, of course; I ain’t a-going to try and put coercion on to you, and there’s time enough to decide when we get Payson wired up. Then I’ll talk to you just once more. You just think it over a while, and don’t do nothing rash." Granthope arose to leave. He was for a more romantic game, himself. The vulgarity here offended him esthetically rather than ethically, and yet he winced at the insinuations Madam Spoll had made. "I think I can go it alone," he said; "as for rashness, I won’t promise." He had gone but a few minutes when Professor Vixley entered and shook a long lean claw with Madam Spoll, took off his coat and sat down. "Well," he said affably, "how’re they coming, Gert?" "Oh, so-so; Frank Granthope’s just been here." "Is that so! Did you get anything out of him?" "No. And he wants his Payson notes back again. What d’you think of that!" Vixley crossed his legs, and whistled a low, astonished note. "We’re goin’ to have trouble with Frank, I expect." Madam Spoll’s smooth forehead wrinkled. "Frank’s a fool! He’s leary of us, and I believe he’ll throw us down if we don’t look out." "Most time to put the screws on, ain’t it?" "I don’t know; we’ll see. We can go it alone for a while. Wait till we really need him and I’ll guarantee to make him mind. He’s got the society bug so bad I couldn’t do anything with him." "The more he gets into society the more use he is to us," said Vixley. "He’s a pretty smooth article." "Do you know, I have an idea he’s getting stuck on that Payson girl." Vixley cackled. "You never can tell," said Madam Spoll. "I believe Frank’s got good blood in him. Sooner or later it’s bound to come out." "Well, if he’s after the girl, it’ll be easier for us to bring him around. He won’t care to be gave away." "That’s right, and we’ll use it. I can see that girl’s face when she hears about him crawling through the panel at Harry Wing’s to play spook for Bennett." "Not to speak of Fancy," Vixley added, grinning. To them, Ringa entered. He slunk into a chair beside Vixley, smoothed down his tow hair, stroked his bristling mustache, and allowed his weak gray eyes to drift about the room. "Well?" Madam Spoll queried, giving him a glance over her fat shoulder. "I found him all right, and I’ve got something. I guess it’s worth a dollar, Madam Spoll." "Let’s hear it, first," said Vixley. "I done the insurance agent act, and I jollied him good." Ringa grinned, showing a hole in his mouth where two front teeth should have been. "You jollied him," Vixley showed his yellow teeth. "Lord, you don’t look it!"