Mr. Illis sat back, staring at the ceiling for a long time. From the street below came the whir and clatter of taxicabs as the midnight crowd came and went. The city's nocturnal life was at its height; men had put aside the worries of the day and were devoting themselves to the more serious and exhausting pastimes of relaxation. Still the white-haired Briton weighed in his mind the matter of millions, while the fortunes of Murray O'Neil hung in the balance. "My people won't buy the S. R. & N.," Illis finally announced. "But I'll put it up to them." "I can't delay action if there's a chance of a refusal. I'll have to see Blum and Capron," said O'Neil. "I'll cable full details within the hour. We'll have an answer by to-morrow night." "And if they refuse?" O'Neil lit a cigar with steady fingers. "Oh, if they refuse I'll join you. We'll go over the matter carefully in the mean time. Two million you said, didn't you?" "Yes. There's two million profit for you in nine months." His voice was husky and a bit uneven, for he had been under a great strain. "Good! You don't know how resentful I feel toward Blum and his crowd. I--I'm downright angry: I am that." Illis took the hand which his caller extended, with an expressionless face. "I'm glad I found you," confessed O'Neil. "I was on my last legs. Herman Heidlemann will pay our price when the last bridge-bolt is driven home, and he'll pay with a smile on his face--that's the sort of man he is." "He won't pay if he knows I'm interested. We're not exactly friendly since I sold out my smelter interests. But he needn't know--nobody need know." Illis called his valet and instructed him to rouse his secretary and ring for some cable blanks. "I think I'll cable, too," Murray told him. "I have some 'boys' up there who are working in the dark with their teeth shut. They're waiting for the crash, and they'd like to hear the good news." His fingers shook as he scrawled the name of Doctor Gray, but his eyes were bright and youth was singing in his heart once more. "Now let's get down to business," said Mr. Illis. "We'll have to talk fast." It was growing light in the east when O'Neil returned to the Holland House; but he felt no fatigue, and he laughed from the pure joy of living, for his dream seemed coming true. XIX MISS APPLETON MAKES A SACRIFICE Tom Slater came puffing up the hill to the Appleton bungalow, plumped himself into a chair, and sighed deeply. "What's the matter? Are you played out?" asked Eliza. "No. I'm feeling like a colt." "Any news from Omar Khayyam?" "Not a word." Eliza's brows drew together in a worried frown, for none of Murray's "boys" had awaited tidings from him with greater anxiety than she.