go; you come to Tryston. It is the best golf course I know; and very nice people. Your wife she will like them . . . I know them. I see that you meet them. . . .'"
Phil inflated the incident recklessly, as he became aware after he was embarked in the relating. Three pair of soft, liquid eyes were admiringly upon him and he wanted to prove how intimate, with his swelling consequence in the business world, was his acquaintance with such a boy as Jay Rountree. Moreover, it was true that the boy had told him about Tryston. Never had Phil Metten thought of going to the place until Jay suggested it.
Before the waiter served the eggs Mornay, Phil Metten inextricably had involved himself in a family expedition to Tryston; and starting to-night. An advantage of residence in a hotel was that, after deciding to travel, you could be out and away at once.
"Any day," warned mamma, after a scrutiny of the news columns failed tq reveal assurance of the duration of the Rountree honeymoon, "they may be going."
Phil arose soberly, with the splendid ornament of the invitation suddenly stripped to recollection of the boy's bare, absentminded mention of Tryston. The fact of the four hundred and forty-five thousand dollar business remained, however, real. Phil Metten had done such a business with Rountree this year; next year, he had still more to give or withhold at his wish—if his brother had not already signed up with the Slengels.
Since Phil was the senior partner and the president of the company, his approval technically was required to bind so large a contract; but, in practice, Sam did the
