"Yes, I do," nodded Selwyn; "but I can't afford one yet"--his face darkened--"not for a while; but," and his features cleared, "I'm delighted, old fellow, that _you_ have one. This certainly is a jolly little kennel--you can fix it up in splendid shape--rugs and mahogany and what-nots and ding-dongs--and a couple of tabby cats and a good dog--" "Isn't it fascinating!" cried Boots. "Phil, all this real estate is mine! And the idea makes me silly-headed. I've been sitting on this pile of rugs pretending that I'm in the midst of vast and expensive improvements and alterations; and estimating the cost of them has frightened me half to death. I tell you I never had such fun, Phil. Come on; we'll start at the cellar--there is some coal and wood and some wonderful cobwebs down there--and then we'll take in the back yard; I mean to have no end of a garden out there, and real clothes-dryers and some wistaria and sparrows--just like real back yards. I want to hear cats make harrowing music on my own back fence; I want to see a tidy laundress pinning up intimate and indescribable garments on my own clothes-lines; I want to have maddening trouble with plumbers and roofers; I want to--" "Come on, then, for Heaven's sake!" said Selwyn, laughing; and the two men, arm in arm, began a minute tour of the house. "Isn't it a corker! Isn't it fine!" repeated Lansing every few minutes. "I wouldn't exchange it for any mansion on Fifth Avenue!" "You'd be a fool to," agreed Selwyn gravely. "Certainly I would. Anyway, prices are going up like rockets in this section--not that I'd think of selling out at any price--but it's comfortable to know it. Why, a real-estate man told me--Hello! What was that? Something fell somewhere!" "A section of the bath-room ceiling, I think," said Selwyn; "we mustn't step too heavily on the floors at first, you know." "Oh, I'm going to have the entire thing done over--room by room--when I can afford it. Meanwhile _j'y suis, j'y reste_. . . . Look there, Phil! That's to be your room." "Thanks, old fellow--not now." "Why, yes! I expected you'd have your room here, Phil--" "It's very good of you, Boots, but I can't do it." Lansing faced him: "_Won't_ you?" Selwyn, smiling, shook his head; and the other knew it was final. "Well, the room will be there--furnished the way you and I like it. When you want it, make smoke signals or wig-wag." "I will; thank you, Boots." Lansing said unaffectedly, "How soon do you think you can afford a house like this?" "I don't know; you see, I've only my income now--" "Plus what you make at the office--" "I've left Neergard." "What!" "This morning; for good." "The deuce!" he murmured, looking at Selwyn; but the latter volunteered no further information, and Lansing, having given him the chance, cheerfully switched to the other track: "Shall I see whether the Air Line has anything in _your_ line, Phil? No? Well, what are you going to do?"