Quick Action

"Twenty!" he retorted, still labouring under his astonishment.

"Twenty-five!" came the same sweet voice.

There was a silence. No other voices said anything. Evidently nobody wanted Valdez except himself and his red-haired neighbour.

"Thirty!" he called out at the psychological moment.

The girl turned in her chair and looked at him. She seemed to be unusually pale.

"Thirty-five!" she said, still gazing at White in a frightened sort of way.

"Forty," he said; rose at the same moment and walked over to where the girl was sitting.

She looked up at him as he bent over her chair; both were very serious.

"You and I are the only two people bidding," he said. "There are two copies of the book. Don't bid against me and you can buy in the other one for next to nothing – judging from the course this one is taking."

"Very well," she said quietly.

A moment later the first copy of Valdez was knocked down to James White. An indifferent audience paid little attention to the transaction.

Two minutes later the second copy fell to Miss Jean Sandys for five dollars – there being no other bidder.

White had already left the galleries. Lingering at the entrance he saw Miss Sandys pass him, and he lifted his hat. The slightest inclination of her pretty head acknowledged it. The next moment they were lost to each other's view in the crowded street.

Clutching his battered book to his chest, not even daring to drop it into his overcoat for fear of pickpockets, the young fellow started up Broadway at a swinging pace which presently brought him to the offices of the Florida Spanish Grants Company; and here, at his request, he was ushered into a private room; a map of Seminole County spread on the highly polished table before him, and a suave gentleman placed at his disposal.

"Florida," volunteered the suave gentleman, "is the land of perpetual sunshine – the land of milk and honey, as it were, the land of the orange – "

"One moment, please," said White.

"Sir?"

They looked at each other for a second or two, then White smiled:

"I don't want dope," he said pleasantly, "I merely want a few facts – if your company deals in them."

"Florida," began the suave gentleman, watching the effect of his words, "is the garden of the world." Then he stopped, discouraged, for White was grinning at him.

"It won't do," said White amiably.

"No?" queried the suave gentleman, the ghost of a grin on his own smooth countenance.

"No, it won't do. Now, if you will restrain your very natural enthusiasm and let me ask a few questions – "

"Go ahead," said the suave gentleman, whose name was Munsell. "But I don't believe we have anything to suit you in Seminole County."

"Oh, I don't know," returned White coolly, "is it all under water?"

"There are a few shell mounds. The highest is nearly ten inches above water. We call them hills."

"I might wish to acquire one of those mountain ranges," remarked White seriously.

After a moment they both laughed.

"Are you in the game yourself?" inquired Mr. Munsell.

"Well, my game is a trifle different."

"Oh. Do you care to be more explicit?"

White shook his head:

"No; what's the use? But I'll say this: it isn't the 'Perpetual Sunshine and Orange Grove' game, or how to become a millionaire in three years."

"No?" grinned Munsell, lifting his expressive eyebrows.

White bent over the map for a few moments.

"Here," he said carelessly, "is the Spanish Causeway and the Coakachee River. It's all swamp and jungle, I suppose – although I see you have it plotted into orange groves, truck gardens, pineapple plantations, and villas."

Munsell made a last but hopeless effort. "Some day," he began, with dignity – but White's calm wink discouraged further attempts. Then the young man tapped with his pencil lots numbered from 200 to 210, slowly, going over them again for emphasis.

"Are those what you want?" asked Munsell.

"Those are what I want."

"All right. Only I can't give you 210."

"Why not?"

"Yesterday a party took a strip along the Causeway including half of 210 up to 220."

"Can't I get all of 210?"

"I'll ask the party. Where can I address you?"

White stood up. "Have everything ready Tuesday. I'll be in with the cash."

XXVII

And on Tuesday he kept his word and the land was his for a few hundred dollars – all except the half of Lot No. 210, which it appeared the "party" declined to sell, refusing to consider any profit whatever.

"It's like a woman," remarked Munsell.

"Is your 'party' a woman?"

"Yes. I guess she's into some game or other, too. Say, what is this Seminole County game, Mr. White? – if you don't mind my asking, now that you have taken title to your – h'm! – orange grove."