correctly read the change in his face at "five thousand," but it had been a sudden fear that his whole ten thousand was not going to suffice for this prodigious operation.
"I can afford that," said Bean shortly. He hardly dared trust himself to say more. His emotion threatened to overcome him.
The professor suffered from the same danger. He, too, dared trust himself to say no more than the few necessary words.
"There must be a payment down," he said with forced coldness.
"How much?"
"A thousand wouldn't be any too much."
"Enough?"
"Well, perhaps not enough," the professor nerved himself to admit.
"I'll give you two, now. Give you the rest when you get—when you get It here."
"You move me, I confess," conceded the professor. "I will undertake it."
"How long will it be, do you think?"
"I shall give orders by cable. A month, possibly, if all goes well."
"I'll give you check." He gulped at that. It was the first time he had ever used the words.
The Countess parted the curtains. Curiously enough she carried a pen and ink, though no one remarked upon the circumstance.
Bean had that morning left a carefully written signature at the bank where his draft had been deposited. He later wondered how the scrawl
