"You told me," said Dolly, smiling anxiously, I could do what I
liked with it. Maybe I have dreams also. Maybe I mean to back
them."
She drove away, mysteriously refusing to tell him what she intended
to do. When they met at luncheon, she was still much excited, still
bristling with a concealed secret.
"Did you back your dream?" asked Carter.
Dolly nodded happily.
"And when am I to know?"
"You will read of it," said Dolly, "to-morrow, in the morning
papers. It's all quite correct. My lawyers arranged it."
"Lawyers!" gasped her husband. "You're not arranging to lock me in
a private madhouse, are you?"
"No," laughed Dolly; "but when I told them how I intended to invest
the money they came near putting me there."
"Didn't they want to know how you suddenly got so rich?" asked
Carter.
"They did. I told them it came from my husband's 'books'! It was a
very 'near' false-hood."
"It was worse," said Carter. "It was a very poor pun."
As in their honey-moon days they drove proudly to the track, and
when Carter had placed Dolly in a box large enough for twenty, he
pushed his way into the crowd around the stand of "Sol" Burbank.
That veteran of the turf welcomed him gladly.
"Coming to give me my money back?" he called.
"No, to take some away," said Carter, handing him his six thousand.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52