“Reed,” said Harris the following day, as they sat in the dusty, creaking car that was conveying them to their dinner appointment with Ketchim, “who is this Ames that Ketchim referred to yesterday?”

The men were not alone, for Carmen accompanied them. Reed was reluctantly bringing her at the urgent request received from Ketchim over the telephone the previous evening. But the girl, subdued by the rush of events since her precipitation into the seething American world of materialism, sat apart from them, gazing with rapt attention through the begrimed window at the flying scenery, and trying to interpret it in the light of her own tenacious views of life and the universe. If the marvels of this new world into which she had been thrown had failed to realize her expectations––if she saw in them, and in the sense of life which they express, something less real, less substantial, than do those who laud its grandeur and power to charm––she gave no hint. She was still absorbing, sifting and digesting the welter of impressions. She had been overpowered, smothered by the innovation; and she now found her thoughts a tangled jumble, which she strove incessantly to unravel and classify according to their content of reality, as judged by her own standards.

“Why, Ames,” replied Reed, turning a watchful eye upon Carmen, “is a multimillionaire financier of New York––surely you have heard of him! He and his clique practically own the 44 United States, and a large slice of Europe. For some reason Ames bought a block of Molino stock. And now, I judge, Ketchim would give his chances on eternal life if he hadn’t sold it to him. And that’s what’s worrying me, too. For, since Ames is heavily interested in Molino, what will he do to the new company that absorbs it?”

“There isn’t going to be any new company,” asserted Harris doggedly.

“There’s got to be!” cried Reed. “Ketchim holds us strictly to our contract. Our negotiations with old Rosendo were made while in the employ of Molino. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had only Ketchim to deal with. We’ve got the goods on him and could beat him. But here enters Ames, a man of unlimited wealth and influence. If he wants La Libertad, he’s going to get it, you mark me! Where we fell down was in ever mentioning it to Ketchim. For if we don’t come over now he will lay the whole affair before Ames. He told me over the ’phone last night that he was badly in debt––that Ames was pressing him––that many of the Molino stockholders were making pertinent inquiries. Oh, he quite opened his heart! And yesterday I saw on his desk a letter from Ames. I can imagine what it contained. Ketchim would sacrifice us and everything else to keep himself out of Ames’s grip. We’re in for it, I tell you! And all because we were a bit too previous in believing that the girl had disappeared for good.”

“By Jove!” exclaimed Harris, “but doesn’t it sound like a fairy-tale, the way Carmen got back to us?”

“And here I am,” continued Reed, with a gesture of vexation, “left with the girl on my hands, and with a very healthy prospect of losing out all around. My wife said emphatically last night that she wouldn’t be bothered with Carmen.”

“Well, she won’t bother you. Send her away to school.”

“Fine! Good idea!” replied Reed sarcastically. “But do you realize that that involves expense? I’m a comparatively poor man, just getting a start in my profession, and with a young and socially ambitious wife!”

“But––your wife––er, she’s going to––to have money some day, isn’t she?”

“Very true. But the grim reaper has a little work to do first. And on occasions like this he’s always deucedly deliberate, you know. Meantime, we’re skating close to the edge––for New Yorkers.”

“Well, we may be able to beat Ketchim. Now, my father and Uncle John––”

“Oh, shoot your father and Uncle John!” snapped Reed impatiently.

The conductor opened the door and bawled a cryptical announcement.

“This is the place,” said Reed, starting up and making for the door. “And now you rake your thought for some way to deal with Ketchim. And leave your father and Uncle John entirely out of the conversation!”

Ketchim was just bowing out a caller as the young engineers mounted the steps. “See that fellow!” he exclaimed, after giving them a hearty welcome. “I just sold him a hundred shares of SimitÍ stock, at five dollars a share––just half of par. Beginning right on the jump, eh?”

“But––” protested Harris, as they entered the spacious parlor, “the company isn’t even in existence yet––and hasn’t an asset!”

“Oh, that’s all right,” replied Ketchim easily. “It’s coming into existence, and will have the grandest mine in South America! Boys,” he went on earnestly, “I’ve been talking over the ’phone with Mr. Ames, our most influential stockholder, and a very warm friend of mine. I told him about our conversation of yesterday. He says, go right ahead with the new company––that it’s a great idea. He’s satisfied with his present holding, and will not increase it. Says he wants Molino stockholders to have the opportunity to purchase all the treasury stock, if they want to.”

“Decidedly magnanimous,” returned Reed. “But––what about the basis of organization of the new company?”

“Leave it as we planned it, he says. He thinks the arrangement and division of stock fine!”

Reed and Harris looked at each other questioningly. It did not seem possible.

“But,” went on Ketchim, “have you seen the morning papers? They are full of the revolution in Colombia. The country is torn wide open, and reports say nothing can be done down there until peace is restored––and that may take a year or two. But, meantime, we will go ahead and organize the new company and take over Molino and prepare to begin work just as soon as you fellows can get into that country. Everybody has simply got to wait until then. And so this,” going to Carmen and taking her hand, “is the wonderful little girl! Well! well!”

The entrance of Mrs. Ketchim and her troop of children at this juncture interrupted the conversation. “All enthusiastic SimitÍ stockholders,” said Ketchim, waving his hand toward them, after the introductions. “And all going to get rich out of it, too––as well as yourselves, boys. It simply shows how Providence works––one with God is a majority, always.”

Carmen glanced up at him wonderingly.

Dinner over, the men were left alone. Carmen had been taken upstairs by the children to the nursery.

“I’ve got myself slated for the presidency of the new company,” said Ketchim, plunging again into the subject nearest his heart; “and I think we’d better put brother James in as vice-president. Perfectly safe,” looking at Harris and winking. “He’s got to be recognized, you know, since the Ketchim Realty Company act as fiscal agents. Now for directors I’ve put down Judge Harris, your father––that’s to assure you boys that there’ll be some one to look after your interests. Then we’ll say Reverend Jurges for another. He’s got a big congregation and will be able to place a lot of stock. You just ought to see the letter he wrote me about selling stock to his people! You’d never believe he was a good, spiritually-minded clergyman, with an eye single to heavenly riches! Then one of you fellows, say Reed, had better go on the directorate, since Harris will be in Colombia in charge of operations. And––well, Cass, too. He’s young and immature, but absolutely square. He’ll do all the legal work for his stock interest. We save money that way, see?”

“But what do I do while we are waiting?” asked Harris in some perplexity. “Reed goes to California right away, you know.”

“That’s all right, old man,” Ketchim genially assured him. “The new company will be organized at once––this week, if possible. You go on salary from the moment of its incorporation, and you open your office right here in this building. I’ll see that the rent is paid until you go back to Colombia. Everything’s arranged, and you turn right in and help Cass with the new company. There’ll be plenty to do. You’ve got to prepare circulars; write boosting letters to stockholders and prospects; follow up leads; and––oh, you’ll be busy! But here comes Reverend Coles,” looking out of the window as a man came up the steps. “He’s interested in some projects I’ve been exploiting. Just excuse me for a few moments.”

He hastened out to greet the visitor and conducted him into a back room. Reed and Harris were left to the contemplation of their own mixed thoughts. Presently Harris, whose eyes had been dilating for some moments, broke out in a hoarse whisper: “Listen! God a’mighty!––he’s praying!”

He got up softly and approached the door of the room into which Ketchim had taken his caller. In a few minutes he returned to his chair. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. “I could see Ketchim through the keyhole, on his knees by the bed, praying with that fellow! Now what the d––!”

Reed held up a warning finger. Through the silence that 47 fell upon them snatches of the prayer being offered in the adjoining room floated to their ears––“O, blessed Saviour, vouchsafe prosperity to our venture, we beseech thee! The earth is the Lord’s, and the fullness thereof––we ask thy blessing on these efforts of ours to wrest from the ground the wealth which the Father of lights has deposited there for the benefit of His children––”

Harris snickered aloud. “What’s the game?” he whispered.

Reed shook his head in warning. “It may not be a game,” he replied. “But if it is, it’s an old one, hiding behind the mask of religion. But I’m inclined to believe the man sincere.”

“And I’m not!” retorted Harris. “I’d rather deal with his brother. I know James to be an out-and-out rascal––he openly flies the black flag. But this pious fellow––well, he’s got me guessing!”

The caller soon departed, and Ketchim again joined the young men. “He’s our assistant pastor,” he said musingly, as he watched the man go down the walk. “Nice young fellow, waiting for a church. He and some of his friends are interested in a zinc mine we’ve been floating, down in the Joplin district.”

“Got titles?” queried the cynical Harris, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh, yes,” Ketchim smiled affably.

“Mine producing?”

“Well, no––not yet. Lots of development work to be done, you know. Always is. And there’s a lot of water in this mine.”

“And in the stock, too, eh?” pursued the cruel Harris. “Got any ore?”

“We haven’t struck the deposit yet, although we expect to soon. But,” glancing up at the clock on the mantel, “we’ll have to be going over to Sunday school now. And I want that little girl to go with Marjorie. Fellows,” the man’s face became deeply serious, “I have no doubt you are both church members?”

Reed fidgeted uneasily under Ketchim’s searching glance; but Harris frankly met the question. “Nope,” he asserted, “we’re both rank heathen. And I’m a dyed-in-the-wool atheist.”

“Gracious!” cried Ketchim, “how can you say that, when you see the goodness of the Lord on every hand?”

“Reed, I believe,” continued the imperturbable Harris, waving a hand toward his friend, “has philosophical leanings––New Thought, Subliminal Consciousness, Power in Silence, and all that. But I’ve got to be shown.”

“But surely you believe in the divinity of the Christ?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I never gave it much thought,” said Harris. “Been pretty busy, you know. Lots of time for that later.”

“Ah, that’s what so many say,” replied Ketchim sadly; “and then comes the awful voice of the Lord, ‘This night thy soul shall be required of thee!’ Fellows, I want to pray for you; and I want you both to promise me that you will take up seriously the consideration of your souls’ welfare. It’s too grave a subject for jest,” addressing himself solemnly to the grinning Harris.

“All right, old man,” laughed Harris. “But don’t dig up any Presbyterian tracts for me. I’ve got a living witness to––well, to something out of the ordinary, in that girl, Carmen, and I’m inclined to believe she’s dug nearer to bottom facts than any of you. So when I’m ready to discuss my soul’s welfare I’ll just consult her, see?”

“That reminds me,” said Ketchim, turning abruptly to Reed, “what do you intend to do with the girl?”

“Quien sabe?” Reed answered abstractedly. “Send her to a boarding school, I guess. At least, that’s what I told the old man I’d do.”

“So you said before,” Ketchim returned. “But where?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Well, let me make a suggestion. My daughter Marjorie leaves Tuesday for Conway-on-the-Hudson, where she has been attending Madam Elwin’s Select School for Girls. Suppose you go with her––I’m too busy, myself––and take Carmen. It’s only a few hours’ ride by boat down the river. And the school is without equal. This is Marjorie’s third year there, and she’s simply in love with it.”

Reed began to show signs of interest; and Ketchim, noting the effect of his words, went on briskly:

“Now look here, Molino owes its salvation, and the new company its existence, to that girl. Why shouldn’t they do something to show their gratitude? I say, it is no more than right that the new company should support her while she is in school.”

“By Jove! not a half-bad idea,” commented Harris.

“Certainly not,” continued Ketchim earnestly. “Now fix up everything with her as regards the transfer of the mine to the new company, and then let her go with Marjorie to the Elwin school. We can, if you like, make some agreement with her to the effect that when the company is on its feet and she is receiving dividends, she shall return what it may advance for her schooling, eh?”

“You’d better accept the suggestion, Reed,” put in Harris. “I’ll be here, you know, to keep an eye on the girl; and I’ll take her and Marjorie down to Conway myself, and attend to getting her located right.”

Reed continued to reflect. He was hardly in a position to refuse such an offer. Besides, he was really leaving her in charge of Harris. “Well,” he said at length, “in that case I could leave for California to-morrow night. That matter is pressing hard––all right, I accept the company’s offer. It’s no more than is due the girl, anyway.”

“Good!” replied Ketchim. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements at once. And now let’s go over to church.”

Thus it was that two days later Carmen, still wondering if she was dreaming, was enrolled in the Elwin Select School for Girls, with Marjorie Ketchim for roommate; while Reed, on the Overland Limited, hurrying to the far West, was musing dubiously at frequent intervals on Ketchim’s rather conflicting statements, which, until left to this enforced leisure, he had not had time to try to reconcile. At the same time, while Harris was loudly declaiming to the gracious Madam Elwin on the astonishing mental prowess of the girl, Ketchim and Cass sat deeply immersed in the tentative plans for the newly-projected SimitÍ Development Company.

“Now listen,” said Ketchim, who for some minutes had been quietly scanning his youthful lawyer, “Ames knows nothing about the formation of this company, but Harris and Reed are not to know that; and we’re going to keep Ames in ignorance of all our plans. With the first sales of stock––and they’ve already begun––we’ll return him his Molino investment. Nezlett wired me this morning that he’s sure to sell a big block to the Leveridges, that they’re mightily interested, and want to meet Carmen. We’ll use the girl for just such purposes. That’s one reason why I wanted her handy, so’s we could reach her at any time. She makes a star impression; and with her as an advertisement we’ll sell a million dollars’ worth of stock, and no trouble at all! She’s got that honest look that’s convincing. And she can tell a story that beats the Arabian Nights! Ames has given me a week to explain, or make good his investment. By that time we’ll have the Leveridges sold for twice his investment, and we’ll just pay him off and remove him. Meantime, you go over to the bank in the morning and put up the best line of talk you’re capable of. I’ve got sixteen hundred dollars to give ’em on that note; and that’ll secure more time, until the sales of stock are enough to pay it all up. Perhaps Uncle Ted will advance me enough to take up the note when he hears about La Libertad. And, say, you see brother James, and shake the club over him until he disgorges that check he got from Miss Leveridge. You can hand him a scare that he won’t get over. By George, old man! things have taken a great turn, eh? Why, I can just see SimitÍ stock sales humping these 50 next few months. Oh, Miss Honeywell,” calling to his cashier, “bring me five dollars, please, and charge it to Molino––I mean, to SimitÍ. Make a new account for that now.” Then, again addressing Cass: “Come with me to the football game this afternoon. We can discuss plans there as well as here. Gee whiz, but I feel great!”