"Must have cost a pile of money," said one, merely to break an embarrassing silence.
"My sister had a friend who brought over a dress from Paris, not as high-toned as that, that cost five hundred dollars," said Clinton Grey.
"How much did you say that spirit-clad old hag of yours cost--thorns and all?" said the president, turning sharply on Trigg.
Trigg swallowed this depreciation of his own purchase meekly.
"Seven hundred and fifty dollars, without the express charges."
"That's only two-fifty more," said the president thoughtfully, "if we call it quits."
"But," said Trigg in alarm, "we must send it back."
"Not much, sonny," said the president promptly. "We'll hang on to this until we hear where that thorny old chump of yours has fetched up and is actin' her conundrums, and mebbe we can swap even."
"But how will we explain it to the boys?" queried Trigg. "They're waitin' outside to see it."
"There WON'T be any explanation," said the president, in the same tone of voice in which he had ordered the door shut. "We'll just say that the statue hasn't come, which is the frozen truth; and this box only contained some silk curtain decorations we'd ordered, which is only half a lie. And," still more firmly, "THIS SECRET DOESN'T GO OUT OF THIS ROOM, GENTLEMEN--or I ain't your president!