"Theodore. I've got fifty one hundred in the bank. It has to last 'till August. If you took five thousand _more_--"
He snatched at the straw. "You bet I'll take it. It's for _insurance_. And you telephone to Masonic Hall and see what's left of the three grand you wired 'em from--"
"The money you sent from Chicago. Get what's left. Soon as I find out, I'll hustle down town and get busy."
Mirabelle wavered. "The Council's going to--"
Mr. Mix gave her a look which was a throwback to his cave-man ancestry. "To _hell_ with the Council!"
For an instant, her whole being rebelled, and then she saw his eyes. "A-all right," she faltered. "I--I'll telephone!"
Inside of five minutes, she told him that of her loan, there was nothing left at all. The money had been wanted for the two-year rental of a new hall, at 300 Chestnut Street; the owner had made a marked concession in price for advance payment.
"Never mind, then," he rasped. "That's cold turkey. Give me a check for every nickel you've got.... And I'll want the car all day. I want a cup of coffee. And you wait right here until I get word to you what to do next."
"You stay here! Far's _I_ know, I'll have you making the rounds of the hock-shops to cash in your jewelry. But--" He relaxed slightly. "But when it's for reform, my dear--when it's for civilization--the League--isn't it worth _any_ sacrifice?"
A spark of the old fire burned in her eyes. "Humph! Good thing _one_ of us has _got_ something to sacrifice, if anybody asked me. But here's your coffee.... Don't make such a horrid noise with it, Theodore."
At noon, he telephoned her two pieces of news. The Council, fairly swamped with hundreds of outraged voters, had promptly modified the existing ordinance, and rejected--unanimously--the Mix amendment. And Mr. Mix, who had spent three hours in conference, and in battle, had emerged victorious.
"Thank Heaven, we're safe!... And it only costs thirty-nine hundred. (Five of this was Mr. Mix's self-granted commission.) I've bought a second option on every last house in town. And I'll need the car all afternoon. I've got to run all over everywhere and close these deals.... What are you going to do?"
"Why," she said with a rueful glance at her check-book. "I guess I'll go down and see how soon I can get that loan back. I'm not used to--putting off tradesmen's bills, Theodore. I wasn't brought up to it."