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 BURNIT 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
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 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
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 GIFT OF 
 
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 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT
 
 Will you if I get my father's business back?
 
 THE MAKING OF 
 BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Being a Record of the Adventures 
 of a Live American Young Man 
 
 By 
 GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER 
 
 With Illustrations by 
 JAMES MONTGOMKKY FLAGG AND F. R. GHUOEK 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS 
 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT 1909 
 THE BOBBS-MEHHIIX COMPANY 
 
 JUNE 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
 
 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 
 
 BROOKLYN, N. Y.
 
 PS 
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 To the Handicapped Sons of Able 
 
 Fathers, and the Handicapped 
 
 Fathers of Able Sons, 
 
 with Sympathy for 
 
 each, and a 
 
 Smile for 
 
 both 
 
 11CS1S5
 
 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT
 
 THE MAKING 
 OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 BOBBY MAKES SOME IMPORTANT PEEPAEATIONS FOE A 
 COMMEECIAL LIFE 
 
 s "W" AM profoundly convinced that my son is a fool," 
 read the will of old John Burnit. "I am, how- 
 M. ever, also convinced that I allowed him to be- 
 come so by too much absorption in my own affairs and 
 too little in his, and, therefore, his being a fool is 
 hereditary ; consequently, I feel it my duty, first, to 
 give him a fair trial at making his own way, and 
 second, to place the balance of my fortune in such 
 trust that he can not starve. The trusteeship is al- 
 ready created and the details are nobody's present 
 business. My son Robert will take over the John 
 Burnit Store and personally conduct it, as his only re- 
 source, without further question as to what else I 
 may have left behind me. This is my last will and tes- 
 tament." 
 
 That is how cheerful Bobby Burnit, with no 
 1
 
 2 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 thought heretofore above healthy amusements and 
 Agnes Elliston, suddenly became a business man, after 
 having been raised to become the idle heir to about 
 three million. Of course, having no kith nor kin in 
 all this wide world, he went immediately to consult 
 Agnes. It is quite likely that if he had been supplied 
 with dozens of uncles and aunts he would have gone 
 first to Agnes anyhow, having a mighty regard for 
 her keen judgment, even though her clear gaze rested 
 now and then all too critically upon himself. Just as 
 he came whirling up the avenue he saw Nick Allstyne's 
 white car, several blocks ahead of him, stop at her 
 door, and a figure which he knew must be Nick jump 
 out and trip up the steps. Almost immediately the 
 figure came down again, much more slowly, and 
 climbed into the car, which whizzed away. 
 
 "Not at home," grumbled Bobby. 
 
 It was h'ke him, however, that he should continue 
 straight to the quaint old house of the Ellistons and 
 proffer his own card, for, though his aims could sel- 
 dom be called really worth while, he invariably fin- 
 ished the thing he set out to do. It seemed to be a 
 sort of disease. He could not help it. To his surprise, 
 the Cerberus who guarded the Elliston door received 
 him with a smile and a bow, and observed : 
 
 "Miss Elliston says you are to walk right on up to 
 the Turkish alcove, sir."
 
 A COMMERCIAL LIFE 3 
 
 While Wilkins took his hat and coat Bobby paused 
 for a moment figuratively to hug himself. At home 
 to no one else ! Expecting him ! 
 
 "I'll ask her again," said Bobby to himself with 
 determination, and stalked on up to the second floor 
 hall, upon which opened a delightful cozy corner where 
 Aunt Constance Elliston permitted the more "family- 
 like" male callers to smoke and loll and be at mannish 
 ease. 
 
 As he reached the landing the door of the library 
 below opened, and in it appeared Agnes and an un- 
 usually well-set-up young man a new one, who wore 
 a silky mustache and most fastidious tailoring. The 
 two were talking and laughing gaily as the door 
 opened, but as Agnes glanced up and saw Bobby she 
 suddenly stopped laughing, and he almost thought 
 that he overheard her say something in an aside to 
 her companion. The impression was but fleeting, how- 
 ever, for she immediately nodded brightly. Bobby 
 bowed rather stiffly in return, and continued his ascent 
 of the stairs with a less sprightly footstep. Crest- 
 fallen, and conscious that Agnes had again closed the 
 door of the library without either herself or the' 
 strange visitor having emerged into the hall, he strode 
 into the Turkish alcove and let himself drop upon a 
 divan with a thump. He extracted a cigar from his 
 cigar-case, carefully cut off the tip and as carefully
 
 4 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 restored the cigar to its place. Then he clasped his 
 interlocked fingers around his knee, and for the next 
 ten minutes strove, like a gentleman, not to listen. 
 
 When Agnes came up presently she made no men- 
 tion whatever of her caller, and, of course, Bobby had 
 no excuse upon which to hang impertinent ques- 
 tions, though the sharp barbs of them were darting 
 through and through him. Such fuming as he felt, 
 however, was instantly allayed by the warm and 
 thoroughly honest clasp she gave him when she shook 
 hands with him. It was one of the twenty-two million 
 things he liked about her that she did not shake hands 
 like two ounces of cold fish, as did some of the girls he 
 knew. She was dressed in a half-formal house-gown, 
 and the one curl of her waving brown hair that would 
 persistently straggle down upon her forehead was in 
 its accustomed place. He had always been obsessed 
 with a nearly irresistible impulse to put his finger 
 through that curl. 
 
 "I have come around to consult you about a little 
 business matter, Agnes," he found himself beginning 
 with sudden breathlessness, his perturbation forgotten 
 in the overwhelming charm of her. "The governor's 
 will has just been read to me, and he's plunged me 
 into a ripping mess. His whole fortune is in the hands 
 of a trusteeship, whatever that is, and I'm not even to 
 know the trustees. 'All I get is just the business, and
 
 A COMMERCIAL LIFE 5 
 
 I'm to carry the John Burnit Store on from its pres- 
 ent blue-ribbon standing to still more dazzling heights, 
 I suppose. Well, I'd like to do it. The governor de- 
 serves it. But, you see, I'm so beastly thick-headed. 
 Now, Agnes, you have perfectly stunning judgment 
 and all that, so if you would just " and he came to 
 an abrupt and painful pause. 
 
 "Have you brought along the contract ?" she asked 
 demurely. "Honestly, Bobby, you're the most orig- 
 inal person in the world. The first time, I was to 
 marry you because you were so awkward, and the next 
 time because your father thought so much of me, and 
 another time because you wanted us to tour Norway 
 and not have a whole bothersome crowd along; then 
 you were tired living in a big, lonely house with just 
 you and your father and the servants ; now, it's an 
 advantageous business arrangement. What share of 
 the profits am I to receive?" 
 
 Bobby's face had turned red, but he stuck manfully 
 to his guns. 
 
 "All of them," he blurted. "You know that none of 
 those is the real reason," he as suddenly protested. 
 "It is only that when I come to tell you the actual 
 reason I rather choke up and can't." 
 
 "You're a mighty nice boy, Bobby," she confessed. 
 "Now sit down and behave, and tell me just what you 
 have decided to do."
 
 6 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Well," said he, accepting his defeat with great 
 philosophy, since he had no reason to regard it as 
 final, "of course, my decision is made for me. I'm to 
 take hold of the business. I don't know anything 
 about it, but I don't see why it shouldn't go straight 
 on as it always has." 
 
 "Possibly," she admitted thoughtfully ; "but I im- 
 agine your father expected you to have rather a diffi- 
 cult time of it. Perhaps he wants you to, so that a 
 defeat or two will sting you into having a little more 
 serious purpose in life than you have at present. I'd 
 like, myself, to see you handle, with credit to him and 
 to you, the splendid establishment he built up." 
 
 "If I do," Bobby wanted to know, "will you marry 
 me?" 
 
 "That makes eleven times. I'm not saying, Bobby, 
 but you never can tell." 
 
 "That settles it. I'm going to be a business man. 
 Let me use your 'phone a minute." It was one of the 
 many advantages of the delightfully informal Turk- 
 ish alcove that it contained a telephone, and in two 
 minutes Bobby had his tailors. "Make me two or 
 three business suits," he ordered. "Regular business 
 suits, I mean, for real business wear you know the 
 sort of thing and get them done as quickly as you 
 can, please. There!" said he as he hung up the re- 
 ceiver. "I shall begin to-morrow morning. I'll go
 
 A COMMERCIAL LIFE 7 
 
 down early and take hold of the John Burnit Store 
 in earnest." 
 
 "You've made a splendid start," commented Agnes, 
 smiling. "Now tell me about the polo tournament," 
 and she sat back to enjoy his enthusiasm over some- 
 thing about which he was entirely posted. i 
 
 He was good to look at, was Bobby, with his clean- 
 cut figure and his clean-cut face and his clean, blue 
 eyes and clean complexion, and she delighted in noth- 
 ing more than just to sit and watch him when he was 
 at ease; he was so restful, so certain to be always 
 telling the truth, to be always taking a charitably 
 good-humored view of life, to turn on wholesome top- 
 ics and wholesome points of view; but after he had 
 gone she smiled and sighed and shook her head. 
 
 "Poor Bobby," she mused. "There won't be a shred 
 left of his tender little fleece by the time he gets 
 through." 
 
 One more monitor Bobby went to see that afternoon, 
 and this was Biff Bates. It required no sending in 
 of cards to enter the presence of this celebrity. One 
 simply stepped out of the elevator and used one's 
 latch-key. It was so much more convenient. Entering 
 a big, barnlike room he found Mr. Bates, clad only in 
 trunks and canvas shoes, wreaking dire punishment 
 upon a punching-bag merely by way of amusement; 
 and Mr. Bates, with every symptom of joy illumi-
 
 8 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 nating his rather horizontal features wide brows, 
 wide cheek-bone, wide nose, wide mouth, wide chin, 
 wide jaw stopped to shake hands most enthusiastic- 
 ally with his caller without removing his padded 
 glove. 
 
 "What's the good news, old pal?" he asked huskily. 
 
 He was half a head shorter than Bobby and four 
 inches broader across the shoulders, and his neck 
 spread out over all the top of his torso; but there 
 was something in the clear gaze of the eyes which 
 made the two gentlemen look quite alike as they 
 shook hands, vastly different as they were. 
 
 "Bad news for you, I'm afraid," announced Bobby. 
 "That little partnership idea of the big gymnasium 
 will have to be called off for a while." 
 
 Mr. Bates took a contemplative punch or two at 
 the still quivering bag. 
 
 "It was a fake, anyway," he commented, putting 
 his arm around the top of the punching-bag and 
 leaning against it comfortably; "just like this place. 
 You went into partnership with me on this joint 
 that is, you put up the coin and run in a lot of your 
 friends on me to be trained up squarest lot of sports 
 I ever saw, too. You fill the place with business and 
 allow me a weekly envelope that makes me tilt my 
 chin till I have to wear my lid down over my eyes to 
 keep it from falling off the back of my head, and
 
 A COMMERCIAL LIFE 9 
 
 when there's profits to split up you shoves mine into 
 my mitt and puts yours into improvements. You put 
 in the new shower baths and new bars and traps, and 
 the last thing, that swimming-tank back there. I'm 
 glad the big game's off. I'm so contented now I'm 
 getting over-weight, and you'd bilk me again. But 
 what's the matter? Did the bookies get you?" 
 
 "No ; I'll tell you all about it," and Bobby care- 
 fully explained the terms of his father's will and what 
 they meant. 
 
 Mr. Bates listened carefully, and when the explana- 
 tion was finished he thought for a long time. 
 
 "Well, Bobby," said he, "here's where you get it. 
 They'll shred you clean. You're too square for that 
 game. Your old man was a fine old sport and he 
 played it on the level, but, say, he could see a marked 
 card clear across a room. They'll double-cross you, 
 though, to a fare-ye-well." 
 
 The opinion seemed to be unanimous.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 PINK CARNATIONS APPEAR IN THE OFFICE OF THE 
 JOHN BURNIT STORE 
 
 BOBBY gave his man orders to wake him up 
 early next morning, say not later than eight, 
 and prided himself very much upon his en- 
 ergy when, at ten-thirty, he descended from his 
 machine in front of the old and honored establish- 
 ment of John Burnit, and, leaving instructions for 
 his chauffeur to call for him at twelve, made his way 
 down the long aisles of white-piled counters and into 
 the dusty little office where old Johnson, thin as a 
 rail and with a face like whittled chalk, humped over 
 his desk exactly as he had sat for the past thirty-five 
 years. 
 
 "Good-morning, Johnson," observed Bobby with an 
 affable nod. "I've come to take over the business." 
 
 He said it in the same untroubled tone he had al- 
 ways used in asking for his weekly check, and Johnson 
 looked up with a wry smile. Applerod, on the con- 
 trary, was beaming with hearty admiration. He was 
 as florid as Johnson was colorless, and the two had 
 10
 
 ' PINK CARNATIONS 11 
 
 rubbed elbows and dispositions in that same room 
 almost since the house of Burnit had been founded. 
 
 "Very well, sir," grudged Johnson, and immedi- 
 ately laid upon the time-blackened desk which had 
 been old John Burnit's, a closely typewritten state- 
 ment of some twenty pages. On top of this he placed 
 a plain gray envelope addressed: 
 
 To My Son Robert, 
 
 Upon the Occasion of His Taking Over the 
 Business 
 
 Upon this envelope Bobby kept his eyes in mild 
 speculation, while he leisurely laid aside his cane and 
 removed his gloves and coat and hat; next he sat 
 down in his father's jerky old swivel chair and lit a 
 cigarette ; then he opened the letter. He read : 
 
 "Every business needs a pessimist and an optimist, 
 with ample opportunities to quarrel. Johnson is a 
 jackass, but honest. He is a pessimist and has a pea-^ 
 green liver. Listen to him and the business will die 
 painlessly, by inches. Applerod is also a jackass, 
 and I presume him to be honest ; but I never tested it. 
 He suffers from too much health, and the surplus goes 
 into optimism. Listen to him and the business will 
 die in horrible agony, quickly. But keep both of them. 
 Let them fight things out until they come almost to 
 an understanding, then take the middle course."
 
 12 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 That was all. Bobby turned squarely to survey 
 the frowning Johnson and the still beaming Apple- 
 rod, and with a flash of clarity he saw his father's 
 wisdom. He had always admired John Burnit, aside 
 from the fact that the sturdy pioneer had been his 
 father, had admired him much as one admires the 
 work of a master magician without any hope of 
 emulation. As he read the note he could seem to 
 see the old gentlemaa standing there with his hands 
 behind him, ready to stretch on tiptoe and drop to 
 his heels with a thump as he reached a climax, his 
 spectacles shoved up on his forehead, his strong, 
 wrinkled face stern from the cheek-bones down, but 
 twinkling from that line upward, the twinkle, which 
 had its seat about the shrewd eyes, suddenly termi- 
 nating in a sharp, whimsical, little up-pointed curl 
 in the very middle of his forehead. To corroborate 
 his warm memory Bobby opened the front of his 
 watch-case, where the same face looked him squarely 
 in the eyes. Naturally, then, he opened the other lid, 
 where Agnes Elliston's face smiled up at him. Sud- 
 denly he shut both lids with a snap and turned, with 
 much distaste but with a great show of energy, to 
 the heavy statement which had all this time con- 
 fronted him. The first page he read over laboriously, 
 the second one he skimmed through, the third and 
 fourth he leafed over; and then he skipped to the
 
 PINK CARNATIONS 13 
 
 last sheet, where was set down a concise statement of 
 the net assets and liabilities. 
 
 "According to this," observed Bobby with great 
 show of wisdom, "I take over the business in a very 
 flourishing condition." 
 
 "Well," grudgingly admitted Mr. Johnson, "it 
 might be worse." 
 
 "It could hardly be better," interposed Applerod 
 "that is, without the extensions and improvements 
 that I think your father would have come in time 
 to make. Of course, at his age he was naturally a 
 bit conservative." 
 
 "Mr. Applerod and myself have never agreed upon 
 that point," wheezed Johnson sharply. "For my 
 part I considered your father well, scarcely reck- 
 less, but, say, sufficiently daring! Daring is about 
 the word." 
 
 Bobby grinned cheerfully. 
 
 "He let the business go rather by its own weight, 
 didn't he?" 
 
 Both gentlemen shook their heads, instantly and 
 most emphatically. 
 
 "He certainly must have," insisted Bobby. "As I 
 recollect it, he only worked up here, of late years, 
 from about eleven fifty-five to twelve every other 
 Thursday." 
 
 "Oftener than that," solemnly corrected the literal
 
 14 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Mr. Johnson. "He was here from eleven until twelve- 
 thirty every day." 
 
 "What did he do?" 
 
 It was Applerod who, with keen appreciation, 
 hastened to advise him upon this point. 
 
 "Said 'yes' twice and 'no' twelve times. Then, at 
 the very last minute, when we thought that he was 
 through, he usually landed on a proposition that 
 hadn't been put up to him at all, and put it clear 
 out of the business." 
 
 "Looks like good finessing to me," said Bobby 
 complacently. "I think I shall play it that way." 
 
 "It wouldn't do, sir," Mr. Johnson replied in a 
 tone of keen pain. "You must understand that when 
 your father started this business it was originally 
 a little fourteen-foot-front place, one story high. 
 He got down here at six o'clock every morning and 
 swept out. As he got along a little further he found 
 that he could trust somebody else with that job 
 but he always knew how to sweep. It took him a life- 
 time to simmer down his business to just 'yes' and 
 'no.' " 
 
 "I see," mused Bobby; "and I'm expected to take 
 that man's place ! How would you go about it ?" 
 
 "I would suggest, without meaning any imperti- 
 nence whatever, sir," insinuated Mr. Johnson, "that 
 if you were to start clerking "
 
 PINK CARNATIONS 15 
 
 "Or sweeping out at six o'clock in the morning?" 
 calmly interrupted Bobby. "I don't like to stay up 
 so late. No, Johnson, about the only thing I'm 
 going to do to show my respect for the traditions of 
 the house is to leave this desk just as it is, and hang 
 an oil portrait of my father over it. And, by the 
 way, isn't there some little side room where I can have 
 my office? I'm going into this thing very earnestly." 
 
 Mr. Johnson and Mr. Applerod exchanged glances. 
 
 "The door just to the right there," said Mr. John- 
 son, "leads to a room which is at present filled with 
 old files of the credit department. No doubt those 
 could be moved somewhere else." 
 
 Bobby walked into that room and gaged its possi- 
 bilities. It was a little small, to be sure, but it would 
 do for the present. 
 
 "Just have that cleared out and a 'phone put in. 
 I'll get right down to business this afternoon and 
 see about the fittings for it." Then he looked at 
 his watch once more. "By George !" he exclaimed, "I 
 almost forgot that I was to see Nick Allstyne at the 
 Idlers' Club about that polo match. Just have one 
 of your boys stand out at the curb along about twelve, 
 will you, and tell my chauffeur to report at the club." 
 
 Johnson eyed the closed door over his spectacles. 
 
 "He'll be having blue suits and brass buttons on 
 us two next," he snorted.
 
 16 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "He don't mean it at all that way," protested 
 Applerod. "For my part, I think he's a fine young 
 fellow." 
 
 "I'll give you to understand, sir," retorted John- 
 son, violently resenting this imputed defection, "that 
 he is the son of his father, and for that, if for noth- 
 ing else, would have my entire allegiance." 
 
 Bobby, meanwhile, feeling very democratic and 
 very much a man of affairs, took a street-car to the 
 Idlers', and strode through the classic portals of that 
 club with gravity upon his brow. Flaxen-haired Nick 
 Allstyne, standing by the registry desk, turned to 
 dark Payne Winthrop with a nod. 
 
 "You win," he admitted. "I'll have to charge it 
 up to you, Bobby. I just lost a quart of the special 
 to Payne that since you'd become immersed in the 
 cares of business you'd not be here." 
 
 Bobby was almost austere in his reception of this 
 slight. 
 
 "Don't you know," he demanded, "that there is 
 nobody who keeps even his social engagements like a 
 business man?" 
 
 "That's what I gambled on," returned Payne con- 
 fidentially, "but I wasn't sure just how much of a 
 business man you'd become. Nick, don't you already 
 seem to see a crease in Bobby's brow?" 
 
 "No, that's his regular polo crease," objected lanky
 
 PINK CARNATIONS 17 
 
 Stanley Rogers, joining them, and the four of them 
 fell upon polo as one man. Their especially anxious 
 part in the tournament was to be a grinding match 
 against WiUie Ashler's crack team, and the point of 
 worry was that so many of their fellows were out of 
 town. They badly needed one more good player. 
 
 "I have it," declared Bobby finally. It was he who 
 usually decided things in this easy-going, athletic 
 crowd. "We'll make Jack Starlett play, but the only 
 way to get him is to go over to Washington after him. 
 Payne, you're to go along. You always keep a full 
 set of regalia here at the club, I know. Here, boy !" 
 he called to a passing page. "Find out for us the 
 next two trains to Washington." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the boy with a grin, and was off 
 like a shot. They had a strict rule against tipping 
 in the Idlers', but if he happened to meet Bobby out- 
 side, say at the edge of the curb where his car was 
 standing, there was no rule against his receiving 
 something there. Besides, he liked Bobby, anyhow. 
 They all did. He was back in a moment. 
 
 "One at two-ten and one at four-twenty, sir." 
 
 "The two-ten sounds about right," announced 
 Bobby. "Now, Billy, telephone to my apartments 
 to have my Gladstone and my dress-suit togs brought 
 down to that train. Then, by the way, telephone 
 Leatherby and Pluscher to send up to my place of
 
 18 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURXIT 
 
 business and have Mr. Johnson show their man my 
 new office. Have him take measurements of it and 
 fit it up at once, complete. They know the kind of 
 things I like. Really, fellows," he continued, turning 
 to the others, after he had patiently repeated and 
 explained his instructions to the foggy but willing 
 Billy, "I'm in serious earnest about this thing. Up 
 to me, you know, to do credit to the governor, if I 
 can." 
 
 "Bobby, the Boy Bargain Baron," observed Nick. 
 "Well, I guess you can do it. All you need to do is 
 to take hold, and I'll back you at any odds." 
 
 "We'll all put a bet on you," encouraged Stanley 
 Rogers. "More, we'll help. We'll all get married 
 and send our wives around to open accounts with 
 you." 
 
 In spite of the serious business intentions, the 
 luncheon which followed was the last the city saw of 
 Bobby Burnit for three days. Be it said to his 
 credit that he had accomplished his purpose when he 
 returned. He had brought reluctant Jack Starlett 
 back with him, and together they walked into the 
 John Burnit Store. 
 
 "New office fitted up yet, Johnson?" asked Bobby 
 pleasantly. 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Johnson sourly. "Just a mo- 
 ment, Mr. Burnit," and from an index cabinet back
 
 PINK CARNATIONS 19 
 
 of him lie procured an oblong gray envelope which he 
 handed to Bobby. It was inscribed : 
 
 To My Son, 
 Upon the Fitting-Out of New Offices 
 
 With a half-embarrassed smile, Bobby regarded 
 that letter thoughtfully and carried it into the luxuri- 
 ous new office. He opened it and read it, and, still 
 with that queer smile, passed it over to Starlett. This 
 was old John Burnit's message: 
 
 "I have seen a business work up to success, and 
 afterward add velvet rugs and dainty flowers on the 
 desk, but I never saw a successful business start 
 that way." 
 
 Bobby looked around him with a grin. There was 
 a velvet rug on the floor. There were no flowers upon 
 the mahogany desk, but there was a vase to receive 
 them. For just one moment he was nonplussed; then 
 he opened the door leading to the dingy apartment 
 occupied by Messrs. Johnson and Applerod. 
 
 "Mr. Johnson," said he, "will you kindly send out 
 and get two dozen pink carnations for my room?" 
 
 Quiet, big Jack Starlett, having loaded and lit and 
 taken the first long puff, removed his pipe from his 
 lips. 
 
 "Bully !" said he.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S ANCIENT ENEMY POINTS OUT THE 
 
 WAY TO GRANDEUR 
 
 MR. JOHNSON had no hair in the very cen- 
 ter of his head, but, when he was more 
 than usually vexed, he ran his fingers 
 through what was left upon both sides of the center 
 and impatiently pushed it up toward a common point. 
 His hair was in that identical condition when he 
 knocked at the door of Bobby's office and poked in 
 his head to announce Mr. Silas Trimmer. 
 
 "Trimmer," mused Bobby. "Oh, yes; he is the 
 John Burnit Store's chief competitor; concern backs 
 up against ours, fronting on Market Street. Show 
 him in, Johnson." 
 
 Jack Starlett, who had dropped in to loaf a bit, 
 rose to go. 
 
 "Sit down," insisted Bobby. "I'm conducting this 
 thing all open and aboveboard. You know, I think I 
 shall like business." 
 
 "They tell me it's the greatest game out," com- 
 mented Starlett, and just then Mr. Trimmer entered. 
 20
 
 THE WAY TO GRANDEUR 21 
 
 He was a little, wiry man as to legs and arms, but 
 fearfully rotund as to paunch, and he had a yellow 
 leather face and black eyes which, though gleaming 
 like beads, seemed to have a muddy cast. Bobby 
 rose to greet him with a cordiality in no degree 
 abashed by this appearance. 
 
 "And what can we do for you, Mr. Trimmer?" he 
 asked after the usual inanities of greeting had been 
 exchanged. 
 
 "Take lunch with me," invited Mr. Trimmer, en- 
 deavoring to beam, his heavy, down-drooping gray 
 mustache remaining immovable in front of the deeply- 
 chiseled smile that started far above the corners of his 
 nose and curved around a display of yellow teeth. "I 
 have just learned that you have taken over the busi- 
 ness, and I wish as quickly as possible to form with 
 the son the same cordial relations which for years 
 I enjoyed with the father." 
 
 Bobby looked him contemplatively in the eye, but 
 had no experience upon which to base a picture of 
 his father and Mr. Trimmer enjoying perpetually 
 cordial relations with a knife down each boot leg. 
 
 "Very sorry, Mr. Trimmer, but I am engaged for 
 lunch." 
 
 "Dinner, then at the Traders' Club," insisted Mr. 
 Trimmer, who never for any one moment had re- 
 mained entirely still, either his foot or his hand
 
 22 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 moving, or some portion of his body twitching almost 
 incessantly. 
 
 Inwardly Bobby frowned, for, so far, he had found 
 ilno points about his caller to arouse his personal en- 
 thusiasm; and yet it suddenly occurred to him that 
 here was doubtless business, and that it ought to have 
 attention. His father, under similar circumstances, 
 would find out what the man was after. He cast a 
 hesitating glance at his friend. 
 
 "Don't mind me, Bobby," said Starlett briskly. 
 "You know I shall be compelled to take dinner with 
 the folks to-night." 
 
 "At about what time, Mr. Trimmer?" Bobby asked. 
 
 "Oh, suit yourself. Any time," responded that 
 gentleman eagerly. "Say half -past six." 
 
 "The Traders'," mused Bobby. "I think the gov- 
 ernor put me up there four or five years ago." 
 
 "I seconded you," the other informed him; "and 
 I had the pleasure of voting for you just the other 
 day, on the vacancy made by your father. You're a 
 full-fledged member now." 
 
 "Fine !" said Bobby. "Business suit or " 
 
 "Anything you like." With again that circular 
 smile behind his immovable mustache, Mr. Trimmer 
 backed out of the room, and Bobby, dropping into a 
 chair, turned perplexed eyes upon his friend. 
 
 "What do you suppose he wants ?" he inquired.
 
 THE WAY TO GRANDEUR 23 
 
 "Your eye-teeth," returned Jack bluntly. "He 
 looks like a mucker to me." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," returned Bobby, a trifle un- 
 easily. "You see, Jack, he isn't exactly our sort, 
 and maybe we can't get just the right angle in judg- 
 ing him. He's been nailed down to business all his 
 life, you know, and a fellow in that line don't have a 
 chance, as I take it, to cultivate all the little well, 
 say artificial graces." 
 
 "Your father wasn't like him. He was as near a 
 thoroughbred as I ever saw, Bobby, and he was 
 nailed down, as you put it, all his life." 
 
 "Oh, you couldn't expect them all to be like the 
 governor," responded Bobby instantly, shocked at 
 the idea. "But this chap may be no end of a good 
 sort in his style. No doubt at all he merely came 
 over in a friendly way to bid me a sort of welcome 
 into the fraternity of business men," and Bobby felt 
 quite a little thrill of pride in that novel idea. "By 
 George! Wait a minute," he exclaimed as still an- 
 other brilliant thought struck him, and going into 
 the other room he said to Johnson: "Please give 
 me the letter addressed: 'To My Son Robert, Upon 
 the Occasion of Mr. Trimmer's First Call.' " 
 
 For the first time in days a grin irradiated John- 
 son's face. 
 
 "Nothing here, sir," he replied.
 
 24 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Let me go through that file." 
 
 "Strictly against orders, sir," said Johnson. 
 
 "Indeed," responded Bobby quizzically ; "I don't 
 like to press the bet, Johnson, but really I'd like to 
 know who has the say here." 
 
 "You have, sir, over everything except my private 
 affairs ; and that letter file is my private property and 
 its contents my private trusteeship." 
 
 "I can still take my castor oil like a little man, if 
 I have to," Bobby resignedly observed. "I remember 
 that when I was a kiddy the governor once undertook 
 to teach me mathematics, and he never would let me 
 see the answers. More than ever it looks like it was 
 up to Bbbby," and whistling cheerfully he walked 
 back into his private office. 
 
 Johnson turned to Applerod with a snarl. 
 
 "Mr. Applerod," said he, "you know that I almost 
 never swear. I am now about to do so. Darn it ! It's 
 a shame that Trimmer calls here again on that old 
 scheme about which he deviled this house for years, 
 and we forbidden to give Mr. Robert a word of ad- 
 vice unless he asks for it." 
 
 "Why is it a shame?" demanded Applerod. "I 
 always have thought that Trimmer's plan was a great 
 one." 
 
 So, all unprepared, Bobby went forth that even- 
 ing, to become acquainted with the great plan.
 
 THE WAY TO GRANDEUR 25 
 
 At the restless Traders' Club, where the precise 
 corridors and columns and walls and ceilings of white 
 marble were indicative of great formality, men with 
 creases in their brows wore their derbies on the backs 
 of their heads and ceaselessly talked shop. Mr. 
 Trimmer, more creased of brow than any of them, was 
 drifting from group to group with his eyes turned 
 anxiously toward the door until Bobby came in. Mr. 
 Trimmer was most effusively glad to see the son of 
 his old friend once again, and lost no time in seating 
 him at a most secluded table, where, by the time the 
 oysters came on, he was deep in a catalogue of the 
 virtues of John Burnit; and Bobby, with a very real 
 and a very deep affection for his father which seldom 
 found expression in words, grew restive. One thing 
 held him, aside from his obligations as a guest. He 
 was convinced now that his host's kindness was in 
 truth a mere graceful act of welcome, due largely to 
 his father's standing, and the idea flattered him very 
 much. He strove to look as businesslike as possible, 
 and thought again and again upon his father; of 
 how he had sat day after day in this stately dining- 
 hall, honored and venerated among these men wht 
 were striving still for the ideal that he had attained. 
 It was a good thought, and made for pride of the 
 right sort. With the entree Mr. Trimmer ordered 
 his favorite vintage champagne, and, as it boiled up
 
 26 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 like molten amber in the glasses, so sturdily that the 
 center of the surface kept constantly a full quarter 
 of an inch above the sides, he waited anxiously for 
 Bobby to sample it. Even Bobby, long since disillu- 
 sioned of such things and grown abstemious from 
 healthy choice, after a critical taste sipped slowly 
 again and again. 
 
 "That's ripping good wine," he acknowledged. 
 
 "There's only a little over two hundred bottles of 
 it left in the world," Mr. Trimmer assured him, and 
 then he waited for that first glass to exert its warm- 
 ing glow. He was a good waiter, was Silas Trimmer, 
 and keenly sensitive to personal influences. He knew 
 that Bobby had not been in entire harmony with 
 him at any period of the evening, but after the roast 
 came on a most careful roast, indeed, prepared 
 under a certain formula upon which Mr. Trimmer 
 had painstakingly insisted he saw that he had really 
 found his way for a moment to Bobby's heart through 
 the channel provided by Nature for attacks upon 
 masculine sympathy, and at that moment he leaned 
 forward with his circular smile, and observed: 
 
 "By the way, Mr. Burnit, I suppose your father 
 often discussed with you the great plan we evolved 
 for the Burnet-Trimmer Arcade?" 
 
 Bobby almost blushed at the confession he must 
 make.
 
 THE WAY TO GRANDEUR 27 
 
 "I'm sorry to say that he didn't," he owned. "I 
 never took the interest in such things that I ought, 
 and so I missed a lot of confidences I'd like to have 
 had now." 
 
 "Too bad," sympathized Mr. Trimmer, now quite 
 sure of his ground, since he had found that Bobby 
 was not posted. "It was a splendid plan we had. 
 You know, your building and mine are precisely the 
 same width and precisely in a line with each other, 
 back to back, with only the alley separating us, the 
 Trimmer establishment fronting on Market Street 
 and the Burnit building on Grand. The alley is 
 fully five feet below our two floor lines, and we could, 
 I am quite sure, get permission to bridge it at a 
 clearance of not to exceed twelve feet. By raising 
 the rear departments of your store and of mine a 
 foot or so, and then building a flight of broad, easy 
 steps up and down, we could almost conceal the pres- 
 ence of this bridge from the inside, and make one 
 immense establishment running straight through from 
 Grand to Market Streets. The floors above the first, 
 of course, would bridge over absolutely level, and 
 the combined stores would comprise by far the largest 
 establishment in the city. Of course, the advantage 
 of it from an advertising standpoint alone would be 
 well worth while." 
 
 Bobby could instantly see the almost interminable
 
 28 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 length of store area thus presented, and it appealed 
 to his sense of big things at once. 
 
 "What did father say about this?" he asked. 
 
 "Thought it a brilliant idea," glibly returned Mr. 
 Trimmer. "In fact, I think it was he who first sug- 
 gested such a possibility, seeing very clearly the in- 
 creased trade and the increased profits that would 
 accrue from such an extension, which would, in fact, 
 be simply the doubling of our already big stores 
 without additional capitalization. We worked out 
 two or three plans for the consolidation, but in the 
 later years your father was very slow about making 
 actual extensions or alterations in his merchandising 
 business, preferring to expend his energies on his 
 successful outside enterprises. I feel sure, however, 
 that he would have come to it in time, for the develop- 
 ment is so logical, so much in keeping with the busi- 
 ness methods of the times." 
 
 Here again was insidious flattery, the insinuation 
 that Bobby must be thoroughly aware of "the busi- 
 ness methods of the times." 
 
 "Of course, the idea is new to me," said Bobby, 
 assuming as best he could the air of business reserve 
 which setemed appropriate to the occasion; "but I 
 should say, in a general way, that I should not care 
 to give up the identity of the John Burnit Store." 
 
 "That is a fine and a proper spirit," agreed Mr.
 
 THE WAY TO GRANDEUR 29 
 
 Trimmer, with great enthusiasm. "I like to see it in 
 a young man, but I've no doubt that we can arrange 
 that little matter. Of course, we would have to in- 
 corporate, say, as the Burnit-Trimmer Mercantile 
 Corporation, but while having that name on the front 
 of both buildings, it might not be a bad idea, for 
 business as well as sentimental reasons, to keep the 
 old signs at the tops of both, just as they now are. 
 Those are little details to discuss later; but as the 
 stock of the new company, based upon the present 
 invoice values of our respective concerns, would be 
 practically all in your hands and mine, this would be 
 a very amicable and easily arranged matter. I tell 
 you, Mr. Burnit, this is a tremendous plan, attractive 
 to the public and immensely profitable to us, and I do 
 not know of anything you could do that would so 
 well as this show you to be a worthy successor to John 
 Burnit ; for, of course, it would scarcely be a credit to 
 you to carry on your father's business without change 
 or advance." 
 
 It was the best and the most crafty argument Mr. 
 Trimmer had used, and Bobby carried away from the 
 Traders' Club a glowing impression of this point. 
 His father had built up this big business by his own 
 unaided efforts. Should Bobby leave that legacy just 
 where he had found it, or should he carry it on to still 
 greater heights? The answer was obvious.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 AGNES EMPHATICALLY DECIDES THAT SHE DOES NOT 
 LIKE A CERTAIN PERSON 
 
 AT the theater that evening, Bobby, to his 
 vexation, found Agnes Elliston walking in 
 the promenade foyer with the well-set-up 
 stranger. He passed her with a nod and slipped 
 moodily into the rear of the Elliston box, where Aunt 
 Constance, perennially young, was entertaining Nick 
 Allstyne and Jack Starlett, and keeping them at a 
 keen wit's edge, too. Bobby gave them the most per- 
 functory of greetings, and, sitting back by himself, 
 sullenly moped. He grumbled to himself that he 
 had a headache; the play was a humdrum affair; 
 Trimmer was a bore; the proposed consolidation had 
 suddenly lost its prismatic coloring; the Traders' 
 Club was crude ; Starlett and Allstyne were utterly 
 frivolous. All this because Agnes was out in the 
 foyer with a very likely-looking young man. 
 
 She did not return until the end of that act, and 
 found Bobby ready to go, pleading early morning 
 
 business. 
 
 30
 
 AGNES DECIDES 81 
 
 "Is it important?" she asked. 
 
 "Who's the chap with the silky mustache?" he 
 suddenly demanded, unable to forbear any longer. 
 "He's a new one." 
 
 The eyes of Agnes gleamed mischievously. 
 
 "Bobby, I'm astonished at your manners," she 
 chided him. "Now tell me what you've been doing 
 with yourself." 
 
 "Trying to grow up into John Burnit's truly son," 
 he told her with some trace of pompous pride, being 
 ready in advance to accept his rebuke meekly, as he 
 always had to do, and being quite ready to cover up 
 his grievous error with a change of topic. "I had no 
 idea that business could so grip a fellow. But what 
 I'd like to find out just now is who is my trustee? It 
 must have been somebody with horse sense, or the 
 governor would not have appointed whoever it was. 
 I'm not going to ask anything I'm forbidden to know, 
 but I want some advice. Now, how shall I learn who 
 it is?" 
 
 "Well," replied Agnes thoughtfully, "about the 
 only plan I can suggest is that you ask your father's 
 legal and business advisers." 
 
 He positively beamed down at her. 
 
 "You're the dandy girl, all right," he said ad- 
 miringly. "Now, if you would only " 
 
 "Bobby," she interrupted him, "do you know that
 
 32 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 we are standing up here in a box, with something like 
 a thousand people, possibly, turned in our direction?" 
 
 He suddenly realized that they were alone, the 
 others having filed out into the promenade, and, plac- 
 ing a chair for her in the extreme rear corner of the 
 box, where he could fence her off, sat down beside her. 
 He began to describe to her the plan of Silas Trim- 
 mer, and as he went on his enthusiasm mounted. The 
 thing had caught his fancy. If he could only in- 
 crease the profits of the John Burnit Store in the 
 very first year, it would be a big feather in his cap. 
 It would be precisely what his father would have de- 
 sired! Agnes listened attentively all through the 
 fourth act to his glowing conception of what the 
 reorganized John Burnit Company would be like. He 
 was perfectly contented now. His headache was 
 gone; such occasional glimpses as he caught of the 
 play were delightful; Mr. Trimmer was a genius; 
 the Traders' Club a fascinating introduction to a 
 new life; Starlett and Allstyne a joyous relief to him 
 after the sordid cares of business. In a word, Agnes 
 was with him. 
 
 "Do you think your father would accept this prop- 
 osition ?" she asked him after he was all through. 
 
 "I think he would at my age," decided Bobby 
 promptly. 
 
 "That is, if he had been brought up as you have,"
 
 AGNES DECIDES S3 
 
 she laughed. "I think I should study a long time 
 over it, Bobby, before I made any such important and 
 sweeping change as this must necessarily be." 
 
 "Oh, yes," he agreed with an assumption of deep 
 conservatism ; "of course I'll think it over well, and 
 I'll take good, sound advice on it." 
 
 "I have never seen Mr. Trimmer," mused Agnes. 
 "I seldom go into his store, for there always seems to 
 me something shoddy about the whole place; but to- 
 morrow I think I shall make it a point to secure a 
 glimpse of him." 
 
 Bobby was delighted. Agnes had always been 
 interested in whatever interested him, but never so 
 absorbedly so as now, it seemed. He almost forgot 
 the stranger in his pleasure. He forgot him still 
 more when, dismissing his chauffeur, he seated Agnes 
 in the front of the car beside him, with Starlett and 
 Allstyne and Aunt Constance in the tonneau, and 
 went whirling through the streets and up the avenue. 
 It was but a brief trip, not over a half-hour, and 
 they had scarcely a chance to exchange a word; but 
 just to be up front there alone with her meant a 
 whole lot to Bobby. 
 
 Afterward he took the other fellows down to the 
 gymnasium, where Biff Bates drew him to one side. 
 
 "Look here, old pal !" said Bates. "I saw you real 
 chummy with T. W. Tight-Wad Trimmer to-night."
 
 34 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Yes?" admitted Bobby interrogatively. 
 
 "Well, you know I don't go around with my ham- 
 mer out, but I want to put you wise to this mut. He's 
 in with a lot of political graft, for one thing, and 
 he's a sure thing guy for another. He likes to take 
 a flyer at the bangtails a few times a season, and last 
 summer he welshed on Joe Poog's book; claimed Joe 
 misunderstood his fingers for two thousand in place 
 of two hundred." 
 
 "Well, maybe there was a mistake," said Bobby, 
 loath to believe such a monstrous charge against any 
 one whom he knew. 
 
 "Mistake nawthin'," insisted Biff. "Joe Poog 
 don't take finger bets for hundreds, and Trimmer 
 never did bet that way. He's a born welsher, anyhow. 
 He looks the part, and I just want to tell you, Bobby, 
 that if you go to the mat with this crab you'll get up 
 with the marks of his pinchers on your windpipe; 
 that's all." 
 
 Early the next morning that is, at about ten 
 o'clock Bobby bounced energetically into the office 
 of Barrister and Coke, where old Mr. Barrister, who 
 had been his father's lawyer for a great many years, 
 received him with all the unbending grace of an ebony 
 cane. 
 
 "I have come to find out who were the trustees ap- 
 pointed by my father, Mr. Barrister," began Bobby,
 
 AGNES DECIDES 35 
 
 with a cheerful air of expecting to be informed at 
 once, "not that I wish to inquire about the estate, but 
 that I need some advice on entirely different matters." 
 
 "I shall be glad to serve you with any legal advice 
 that you may need," offered Mr. Barrister, patting 
 his finger-tips gently together. 
 
 "Are you the trustee ?" 
 
 "No, sir" this with a dusty smile. 
 
 "Who is, then?" 
 
 "The only information which I am at liberty to 
 give you upon that point," said Mr. Barrister drily, 
 "is that contained in your father's will. Would you 
 care to examine a copy of that document again ?" 
 
 "No, thanks," declined Bobby politely. "It's too 
 truthful for comfort." 
 
 From there he went straight to his own place of 
 business, where he asked the same question of John- 
 son. In reply, Mr. Johnson produced, from his own 
 personal and private index-file, an oblong gray en- 
 velope addressed: 
 
 To My Son Robert, 
 
 Upon His Inquiring About the Trusteeship of 
 My Estate 
 
 Opening this in the privacy of his own office, Bobby 
 read:
 
 36 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "As stated in my will, it is none of your present 
 business." 
 
 "Up to Bobby again," the son commented aloud. 
 "Well, Governor," and his shoulders straightened 
 while his eyes snapped, "if you can stand it, I can. 
 Hereafter I shall take my own advice, and if I lose 
 I shall know how to find the chap who's to blame." 
 
 He had an opportunity to "go it alone" that very 
 morning, when Johnson and Applerod came in to him 
 together with a problem. Was or was not that Chi- 
 cago branch to be opened? The elder Mr. Burnit had 
 considered it most gravely, but had left the matter 
 undecided. Mr. Applerod was very keenly in favor 
 of it, Mr. Johnson as earnestly against it, and in 
 his office they argued the matter with such heat that 
 Bobby, accepting a typed statement of the figures in 
 the case, virtually turned them out. 
 
 "When must you have a decision?" he demanded. 
 
 "To-morrow. We must wire either our acceptance 
 or rejection of the lease." 
 
 "Very well," said Bobby, quite elated that he was 
 carrying the thing off with an air and a tone so crisp ; 
 "just leave it to me, will you?" 
 
 He waded through the statement uncomprehend- 
 ingly. Here was a problem which was covered and 
 still not covered by his father's observations anent
 
 AGNES DECIDES 37 
 
 Johnson and Applerod. It was a matter for wrang- 
 ling, obviously enough, but there was no difference to 
 split. It was a case of deciding either yes or no. 
 For the balance of the time until Jack Starlett called 
 for him at twelve-thirty, he puzzled earnestly and 
 soberly over the thing, and next morning the problem 
 still weighed upon him when he turned in at the office. 
 He could see as he passed through the outer room that 
 both Johnson and Applerod were furtively eying 
 him, but he walked past them whistling. When he 
 had closed his own door behind him he drew again that 
 mass of data toward him and struggled against the 
 chin-high tide. Suddenly he shoved the papers aside, 
 and, taking a half-dollar from his pocket, flipped it 
 on the floor. Eagerly he leaned over to look at it. 
 Tails ! With a sigh of relief he put the coin back in 
 his pocket and lit a cigarette. About half an hour 
 later the committee of two came solemnly in to see 
 him. 
 
 "Have you decided to open the Chicago branch, 
 sir?" asked Johnson. 
 
 "Not this year," said Bobby coolly, and handed 
 back the data. "I wish, Mr. Johnson, you would 
 appoint a page to be in constant attendance upon 
 this room." 
 
 Back at their own desks Johnson gloated in calm 
 triumph.
 
 38 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "It may be quite possible that Mr. Robert may 
 turn out to be a duplicate of his father," he opined. 
 
 "I don't know," confessed Applerod, crestfallen. 
 "I had thought that he would be more willing to 
 take a sporting chance." 
 
 Mr. Johnson snorted. Mr. Applerod, who had 
 never bet two dollars on any proposition in his life, 
 considered himself very much of a sporting dis- 
 position. 
 
 Savagely in love with his new assertiveness Bbbby 
 called on Agnes that evening. 
 
 "I saw Mr. Trimmer to-day," she told him. "I 
 don't like him." 
 
 "I didn't want you to," he replied with a grin. 
 "You like too many people now." 
 
 "But I'm serious, Bobby," she protested, uncon- 
 sciously clinging to his hand as they sat down upon 
 the divan. "I wouldn't enter into any business ar- 
 rangements with him. I don't know just what there 
 is about him that repels me, but well, I don't like 
 him!" 
 
 "Can't say I've fallen in love with him myself," 
 he replied. "But, Agnes, if a fellow only did busi- 
 ness with the men his nearest women-folks liked, there 
 wouldn't be much business done." 
 
 "There wouldn't be so many losses," she retorted. 
 
 "Bound to have the last word, of course," he an-
 
 AGNES DECIDES 39 
 
 swered, taking refuge in that old and quite false slur 
 against women in general; for a man suffers from 
 his spleen if he can not put the quietus on every argu- 
 ment. "But, honestly, I don't fear Mr. Trimmer. 
 I've been inquiring into this stock company business. 
 We are each to have stock in the new company, if we 
 form one, in exact proportion to the invoices of our 
 respective establishments. Well, the Trimmer con- 
 cern can't possibly invoice as much as we shall, and 
 I'll have the majority of stock, which is the same as 
 holding all the trumps. I had Mr. Barrister explain 
 all that to me. With the majority of stock you can 
 have everything your own way, and the other chap 
 can't even protest. Seems sort of a shame, too." 
 
 "I don't like him," declared Agnes. 
 
 The ensuing week Bobby spent mostly on the polo 
 match, though he called religiously at the office every 
 morning, coming down a few minutes earlier each 
 day. It was an uneasy week, too, as well as a busy 
 one, for twice during its progress he saw Agnes 
 driving with the unknown ; and the fact that in bothi 
 instances a handsome young lady was with them 
 did not seem to mend matters much. He was aston- 
 ished to find that losing the great polo match did not 
 distress him at all. A year before it would have 
 broken his heart, but the multiplicity of new interests 
 had changed him entirely. As a matter of fact, he
 
 40 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 had been long ripe for the change, though he had not 
 known it. As he had matured, the blood of his hered- 
 ity had begun to clamor for its expression ; that was 
 all. 
 
 At the beginning of the next week Mr. Trimmer 
 came in to see him again, with a roll of drawings 
 under his arm. The drawings displayed the proposed 
 new bridge in elevation and in cross section. They 
 showed the total stretch of altered store-rooms from 
 street to street, and cleverly-drawn perspectives made 
 graphically real that splendid length. They were 
 accompanied by an estimate of the cost, and also by 
 a permit from the city to build the bridge. With 
 these were the preliminary papers for the organiza- 
 tion of the new company, and Bobby, by this time in- 
 tensely interested and convinced that his interest was 
 business acumen, went over each detail with contracted 
 brow and with kindling enthusiasm. 
 
 It was ten o'clock of that morning when Silas Trim- 
 mer had found Bobby at his desk ; by eleven Mr. 
 Johnson and Mr. Applerod, in the outer office, were 
 quite unable to work; by twelve they were snarling 
 at each other; at twelve-thirty Johnson ventured to 
 poke his head in at the door, framing some trivial 
 excuse as he did so, but found the two merchants with 
 their heads bent closely over the advantages of the 
 great combined stores. At a quarter-past one, return-
 
 AGNES DECIDES 41 
 
 ing from a hasty lunch, Johnson tiptoed to the door 
 again. He still heard an insistent, high-pitched voice 
 inside. Mr. Trimmer was doing all the talking. He 
 had explained and explained until his tongue was 
 dry, and Bobby, with a full sense of the importance 
 of his decision, was trying to clear away the fog that' 
 had grown up in his brain. Mr. Trimmer was press- 
 ing him for a decision. Bobby suddenly slipped his 
 hand in his pocket, and, unseen, secured a half-dollar, 
 which he shook in his hand under the table. Opening 
 his palm he furtively looked at the coin. Heads ! 
 
 "Get your papers ready, Mr. Trimmer," he an- 
 nounced, as one finally satisfied by good and sufficient 
 argument, "we'll form the organization as soon as 
 you like." 
 
 No sooner had he come to this decision than he felt 
 a strange sense of elation. He had actually consum- 
 mated a big business deal! He had made a positive 
 step in the direction of carrying the John Burnit 
 Store beyond the fame it had possessed at the time 
 his father had turned it over to him! Since he had 
 stiffened his back, he did not condescend to take John- 
 son and Applerod into his confidence, though those 
 two gentlemen were quivering to receive it, but he 
 did order Johnson to allow Mr. Trimmer's representa- 
 tives to go over the John Burnit books and to verify 
 their latest invoice, together with the purchases and
 
 42 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 sales since the date of that stock-taking. To Mr. Ap- 
 plerod he assigned the task of making a like exam- 
 ination of the Trimmer establishment, and each day 
 felt more like a really-truly business man. He 
 affected the Traders' Club now, formed an entirely 
 new set of acquaintances, and learned to go about 
 the stately rooms of that magnificent business annex 
 with his hat on the back of his head and creases in 
 his brow. 
 
 Even before the final papers were completed, a 
 huge gang of workmen, consisting of as many arti- 
 sans as could be crowded on the job without standing 
 on one another's feet, began to construct the elaborate 
 bridge which was to connect the two stores, and Mr. 
 Trimmer's publicity department was already secur- 
 ing column after column of space in the local papers, 
 some of it paid matter and some gratis, wherein it 
 appeared that the son of old John Burnit had proved 
 himself to be a live, progressive young man a 
 worthy heir of so enterprising a father.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WHEREIN BOBBY ATTENDS A STOCK-HOLDERS* MEETING 
 AND CUTS A WISDOM-TOOTH 
 
 WITHIN a very few days was completed 
 the complicated legal machinery which 
 threw the John Burnit Store and 
 Trimmer and Company into the hands of "The Bur- 
 nit-Trimmer Merchandise Corporation" as a holding 
 and operating concern. The John Burnit Store went 
 into that consolidation at an invoice value of two 
 hundred and sixty thousand dollars, Trimmer and 
 Company at two hundred and forty thousand; and 
 Bobby was duly pleased. He had the majority of 
 stock! On the later suggestion of Mr. Trimmer, 
 however, sixty thousand dollars of additional capital 
 was taken into the concern. 
 
 "The alterations, expansions, new departments and 
 publicity will compel the command of about that 
 much money," Mr. Trimmer patiently explained; 
 "and while we could appropriate that amount from 
 our respective concerns, we ought not to weaken our 
 capital, particularly as financial affairs throughout 
 43
 
 44 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 the country are so unsettled. This is not a brisk 
 commercial year, nor can it be." 
 
 "Yes," admitted Bobby, "I've heard something of 
 all this hard-times talk. I know Nick Allstyne sold 
 his French racer, and Nick's supposed to be worth 
 no end of money." 
 
 "Exactly," agreed Mr. Trimmer dryly. "This 
 sixty thousand dollars' worth of stock, Mr. Burnit, 
 I am quite sure that I can place with immediate pur- 
 chasers, and if you will leave the matter to me I can 
 have it all represented in our next meeting without 
 any bother at all to you." 
 
 "Very kind of you, I am sure," agreed Bobby, 
 thankful that this trifling detail was not to bore him. 
 
 And so it was that the Burnit-Trimmer Merchan- 
 dise Corporation was incorporated at five hundred and 
 sixty thousand dollars. It was considerably later 
 when Bobby realized the significance of the fact that 
 the subscribers to the additional capitalization con- 
 sisted of Mr. Trimmer's son, his son-in-law, his head 
 bookkeeper, his confidential secretary and his cousin, 
 all of whom had also been minor stock-holders in the 
 concern of Trimmer and Company. 
 
 It was upon the day preceding the first stock-hold- 
 ers' meeting of the reorganized company that Bobby, 
 quite proud of the fact that he had acted independ- 
 ently of them, made the formal announcement to
 
 A STOCK-HOLDERS' MEETING 45 
 
 Johnson and Applerod that the great consolidation 
 had been effected. 
 
 "Beginning with to-morrow morning, Mr. John- 
 son," said he to that worthy, "the John Burnit Store 
 will be merged into the Burnit-Trimmer Merchan- 
 dise Corporation, and Mr. Trimmer will doubtless 
 send his secretary to confer with you about an ad- 
 justment of the clerical work." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Mr. Johnson dismally, and rose 
 to open the filing case behind him. With his hand in 
 the case he paused and turned a most woebegone 
 countenance to the junior Burnit. "We shall be very 
 regretful, Mr. Applerod and myself, to lose our posi- 
 tions, sir," he stated. "We have grown up with the 
 business from boyhood." 
 
 "Nonsense!" exploded Applerod. "We would be 
 regretful if that were to occur, but there is nothing 
 of the sort possible. Why, Mr. Burnit, I think this 
 consolidation is the greatest thing that ever happened. 
 I've been in favor of it for years ; and as for its los- 
 ing me my position Pooh!" and he snapped his 
 fingers. 
 
 "Applerod is quite right, Mr. Johnson," said 
 Bobby severely. "Nothing of the sort is contem- 
 plated. Yourself and Mr. Applerod are to remain 
 with me as long as fair treatment and liberal pay and 
 personal attachment can induce you to do so."
 
 46 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said Mr. Johnson dryly, but 
 he shook his head, and from the file produced one of 
 the familiar gray envelopes. 
 
 Bobby eyed it askance as it came toward him, and 
 winced as he saw the inscription. He was beginning 
 to dread these missives. They seemed to follow him 
 about, to menace him, to give him a constant feeling 
 of guilt. Nevertheless, he took this one quite calmly 
 and walked into his own room. It was addressed : 
 
 To My Son, 
 
 Upon the Occasion of His Completing a Consolidation 
 with Silas Trimmer 
 
 and it read : 
 
 "When a man devils you for years to enter a busi- 
 ness deal with him, you may rest assured that man has 
 more to gain by it than you have. Aside from his 
 wormwood business jealousy of me, Silas Trimmer 
 has wanted this Grand Street entrance to his store for 
 more than the third of a century; now he has it. 
 He'll have your store next." 
 
 "Look here, Governor," protested Bobby aloud, to 
 his lively remembrance of his father as he might have 
 stood in that very room, "I call this rather rubbing 
 it in. It's a bit unsportsmanlike. It's almost like 
 laying a trap for a chap who doesn't know the game,"
 
 A STOCK-HOLDERS' MEETING 47 
 
 and, rankling with a sense of injustice, he went out 
 to Johnson. 
 
 "I say, Johnson," he complained, "it's rather my 
 fault for being too stubborn to ask about it, but if 
 you knew that Mr. Trimmer was trying to work a 
 game on me that was dangerous to the business, why 
 didn't you volunteer to explain it to me ; to forewarn 
 me and give me a chance for judgment with all the 
 pros and cons in front of me ?" 
 
 "From the bottom of my heart, Mr. Burnit," said 
 Johnson with feeling, "I should like to have done it; 
 but it was forbidden." 
 
 He already had lying before him another of the 
 gray envelopes, and this he solemnly handed over. It 
 was addressed: 
 
 To My Son, 
 
 Upon His Complaining that Johnson Gave Him No 
 Warning Concerning Silas Trimmer 
 
 The message it contained was : 
 
 "It takes hard chiseling to make a man, but if the 
 material is the right grain the tool-marks won't show. 
 If I had wanted you merely to make money, I would 
 have left the business entirely in the hands of John- 
 son and Applerod. But there is no use to put off 
 pulling a tooth. It only hurts worse in the end."
 
 48 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 When Bobby left the office he felt like walking in 
 the middle of the street to avoid alley corners, since 
 he was unable to divine from what direction the next 
 brick might come. He had taken the business to heart 
 more than he had imagined that he would, and the 
 very fact of his father's having foreseen that he 
 would succumb to this consolidation made him give 
 grave heed to the implied suggestion that he would 
 be a heavy loser by it. He had an engagement with 
 Allstyne and Starlett at the Idlers' that afternoon, 
 but they found him most preoccupied, and openly 
 voted him a bore. He called on Agnes Elliston, but 
 learned that she was out driving, and he savagely 
 assured himself that he knew who was handling the 
 reins. He dined at the Traders', and, for the first 
 time since he had begun to frequent that place, the 
 creases in his brow were real. 
 
 Later in the evening he dropped around to see Biff 
 Bates. In the very center of the gymnasium he found 
 that gentleman engaged in giving a preliminary box- 
 ing lesson to a spider-like new pupil, who was none 
 other than Silas Trimmer. Responding to Biff's 
 cheerful grin and Mr. Trimmer's sheepish one with 
 what politeness he could muster, Bobby glumly went 
 home. 
 
 On the next morning occurred the first stock-hold- 
 ers' meeting of the Burnit-Trimmer Merchandise Cor-
 
 A STOCK-HOLDERS' MEETING 49 
 
 poration, which Bobby attended with some feeling of 
 importance, for, with his twenty-six hundred shares, 
 he was the largest individual stock-holder present. 
 That was what had reassured him overnight: the 
 magic "majority of stock!" Mr. Trimmer only had 
 twenty-four hundred, and Bobby could swing things 
 as he pleased. His father, omniscient as he was, must 
 certainly have failed to foresee this fact. In his sim- 
 plicity of such matters and his general unsuspicious- 
 ness, Bobby had not calculated that if the additional 
 six hundred shares were to vote solidly with Mr. 
 Trimmer against him, his twenty-six hundred shares 
 would be confronted by three thousand, and so ren- 
 dered paltry. 
 
 Mr. Trimmer was delighted to see young Mr. 
 Burnit. This was a great occasion indeed, both for 
 the John Burnit Store and for Trimmer and Com- 
 pany, and, in the opinion of Mr. Trimmer, his circu- 
 lar smile very much in evidence, John Burnit himself 
 would have been proud to see this day ! Mr. Smythe, 
 Mr. Trimmer's son-in-law, also thought it a great 
 day; Mr. Weldon, Mr. Trimmer's head bookkeeper, 
 thought it a great day ; Mr. Harvey, Mr. Trimmer's 
 confidential secretary, and Mr. U. G. Trimmer, Mr. 
 Silas Trimmer's cousin, shared this pleasant impres- 
 sion. 
 
 In the beginning the organization was without form
 
 50 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 or void, as all such organizations are, but Mr. Trim- 
 mer, having an extremely clear idea of what was to 
 be accomplished, proposed that Mr. Burnit accept 
 the chair pro tern. where he would be out of the way. 
 The unanimous support which this motion received 
 was quite gratifying to the feelings of Mr. Burnit, 
 proving at once that his fears had been not only 
 groundless but ungenerous, and, in accepting the 
 chair, he made them what he considered a very neat 
 little speech indeed, striving the while to escape that 
 circular smile with its diameter of yellow teeth and 
 its intersecting crescent of stiff mustache ; for he dis- 
 liked meanly to imagine that smile to have a sar- 
 castic turn to-day. At the suggestion of Mr. Trim- 
 mer, Mr. Weldon accepted the post of secretary pro 
 tern. Mr. Trimmer then, with a nicely bound black 
 book in his hand, rose to propose the adoption of 
 the stock constitution and by-laws which were neatly 
 printed in the opening pages of this minute-book, 
 and in the articles of which he had made some trifling 
 ^amendments. Mr. Weldon, by request, read these 
 most carefully and conscientiously, making quite 
 plain that the entire working management of the 
 consolidated stores was to be under the direct charge 
 of a general manager and an assistant general man- 
 ager, who were to be appointed and have their sal- 
 aries fixed by the board of directors, as was meet and
 
 A STOCK-HOLDERS' MEETING 51 
 
 proper. Gravely the stock-holders voted upon the 
 adoption of the constitution and by-laws, and, with 
 a feeling of pride, as the secretary called his name, 
 Bobby cast his first vote in the following conven- 
 tional form: 
 
 "Aye twenty-six hundred shares." 
 
 Mr. Trimmer followed, voting twenty-four hun- 
 dred shares ; then Mr. Smythe, three hundred ; Mr. 
 Weldon, fifty; Mr. Harvey, fifty; Mr. U. G. Trim- 
 mer, fifty ; Mr. Thomas Trimmer, whose proxy 
 was held by his father, one hundred and fifty; mak- 
 ing in all a total of fifty-six hundred shares unanim- 
 ously cast in favor of the motion; and Bobby, after 
 having roundly announced the result, felt that he was 
 conducting himself with vast parliamentary credit 
 and lit a cigarette with much satisfaction. 
 
 Mr. Trimmer, twirling his thumbs, displayed no 
 surprise, nor even gratification, when Mr. Smythe 
 almost immediately put him in nomination for presi- 
 dent. Mr. Weldon promptly seconded that nomina- 
 tion. Mr. Harvey moved that the nominations for the 
 presidency be closed. Mr. U. G. Trimmer seconded 
 that motion, which was carried unanimously; and 
 with no ado whatever Mr. Silas Trimmer was made 
 president of the Burnit-Trimmer Merchandise Cor- 
 poration, Mr. Burnit having most courteously cast 
 twenty-six hundred votes for him; for was not Mr.
 
 52 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Trimmer entitled to this honor by right of seniority? 
 In similar manner Mr. Burnit, quite pleased, and not 
 realizing that the vice-president of a corporation has 
 a much less active and influential position than the 
 night watchman, was elected to the second highest 
 office, while Mr. Weldon was made secretary and Mr. 
 Smythe treasurer. Mr. Harvey, Mr. U. G. Trimmer 
 and Mr. Thomas Trimmer were, as a matter of 
 course, elected members of the board of directors, 
 the four officers already elected constituting the re- 
 maining members of the board. There seemed but 
 very little business remaining for the stock -holders to 
 do, so they adjourned; then, the members of the board 
 being all present and having waived in writing all 
 formal notification, the directors went into immediate 
 session, with Mr. Trimmer in the chair and Mr. 
 Weldon in charge of the bright and shining new 
 book of minutes. 
 
 The first move of that body, after opening the 
 meeting in due form, was made by Mr. Harvey, who 
 proposed that Mr. Silas Trimmer be constituted gen- 
 eral manager of the consolidated stores at a salary 
 of fifty thousand dollars per year, a motion which 
 was immediately seconded by Mr. U. G. Trimmer. 
 
 Bobby was instantly upon his feet. Even with his 
 total lack of experience in such matters there was 
 something about this that struck him as overdrawn,
 
 A STOCK-HOLDERS' MEETING 53 
 
 and he protested that fancy salaries should have no 
 place in the reorganized business until experience 
 had proved that the business would stand it. He 
 was very much in earnest about it, and wanted the 
 subject discussed thoroughly before any such rash 
 step was taken. The balance of the discussion con- 
 sisted in one word from Mr. Smythe, echoed by all 
 his fellow-members. 
 
 "Question!" said that gentleman. 
 
 "You have all heard the question," said Mr. Trim- 
 mer calmly. "Those in favor will please signify by 
 saying 'Aye.' " 
 
 "Aye!" voted four members of the board as with 
 one scarcely interested voice. 
 
 "No !" cried Bobby angrily, and sprang to his feet, 
 his anger confused, moreover, by the shock of find- 
 ing unsuspected wolves tearing at his vitals. "Gen- 
 tlemen, I protest against this action ! I " 
 
 Mr. Trimmer pounded on the table with his pencil 
 in lieu of a gavel. 
 
 "The motion is carried. !Any other business?" 
 
 It seemed that there was. Mr. Harvey proposed 
 that Mr. Smythe be made assistant general manager 
 at a salary of twenty-five thousand dollars per year. 
 Again the farce of a ballot and the farce of a pro- 
 test was enacted. Where now was the voting power 
 of Bobby's twenty-six hundred shares? In the di-
 
 54 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 rectors' meeting they voted as individuals, and they 
 were six against one. Rather indifferently, as if 
 the thing did not amount to much, Mr. Smythe pro- 
 posed that the selection of a firm name for advertising 
 and publicity purposes be left to the manager, and 
 though Bobby voted no as to this proposition on gen- 
 eral principles, it seemed of minor importance, in 
 his then bewildered state of mind. After all, the 
 thing which grieved him most just then was to find 
 that people could do these things!
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 CONSISTING ENTIRELY OF A RAPID SUCCESSION OF MOST 
 PAINFUL SHOCKS 
 
 HE was still dazed with what had happened, 
 when, the next morning, he turned into 
 ^^1^ the office and found Johnson and Apple- 
 rod packing up their personal effects. Workmen 
 were removing letter-files and taking desks out of 
 the door. 
 
 "What's the matter?" he asked, surveying the un- 
 wonted confusion in perplexity. 
 
 "The entire office force of the now defunct John 
 Burnit Store has been dismissed, that's all!" blurted 
 Applerod, now the aggrieved one. "You sold us out, 
 lock, stock and barrel!" 
 
 "Impossible 1" gasped Bobby. 
 
 Mr. Johnson glumly showed him curt letters of 
 dismissal from Trimmer. 
 
 "Where's mine, I wonder?" inquired Bobby, try- 
 ing to take his terrific defeat with sportsmanlike 
 nonchalance. 
 
 55
 
 56 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I don't suppose there is any for you, sir, inas- 
 much as you never had a recognized position to lose," 
 replied Johnson, not unkindly. "Did the board of 
 directors elect you to any salaried office?" 
 
 "Why, so they didn't!" exclaimed Bobby, and for 
 the first time realized that no place had been made for 
 him. He had taken it as a matter of course that he 
 was to be a part of the consolidation, and the omis- 
 sion of any definite provision for him had passed 
 unnoticed. 
 
 The door leading to his own private office banged 
 open, and two men appeared, shoving through it 
 the big mahogany desk turned edgewise. 
 
 "What are they doing?" Bobby asked sharply. 
 
 "Moving out all the furniture," snapped Apple- 
 rod with bitter relish. "All the office work, I under- 
 stand, is to be done in the other building, and this 
 space is to be thrown into a special cut-glass depart- 
 ment. I suppose the new desk is for Mr. Trimmer." 
 
 Furious, choking, Bobby left the office and strode 
 back through the store. The first floor passageway 
 was already completed between the two buildings, 
 and a steady stream of customers was going over the 
 bridge from the old Burnit store into the old Trim- 
 mer store. There were very few coming in the other 
 direction. He had never been in Mr. Trimmer's 
 offices, but he found his way there with no difficulty,
 
 A SUCCESSION OF SHOCKS 57 
 
 and Mr. Trimmer came out of his private room to 
 receive him with all the suavity possible. In fact, 
 he had been saving up suavity all morning for this 
 very encounter. 
 
 "Well, what can we do for you this morning, Mr. 
 Burnit?" he wanted to know, and Bobby, though ac- 
 customed to repression as he was, had a sudden im- 
 pulse to drive his fist straight through that false 
 circular smile. 
 
 "I want to know what provision has been made 
 for me in this new adjustment," he demanded. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Burnit," expostulated Mr. Trimmer in 
 much apparent surprise, "you have two hundred and 
 sixty thousand dollars' worth of stock in what should 
 be the best paying mercantile venture in this city; 
 you are vice-president, and a member of the board of 
 directors !" 
 
 "I have no part, then, in the active management?" 
 Bobby wanted to know. 
 
 "It would be superfluous, Mr. Burnit. One of the 
 chief advantages of such a consolidation is the econ- 
 omy that comes from condensing the office and man- 
 aging forces. I regretted very much indeed to dis- 
 miss Mr. Johnson and Mr. Applerod, but they are 
 very valuable men and should have no difficulty in 
 placing themselves advantageously. In fact, I shall 
 be glad to aid them in securing new positions."
 
 58 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 "The thing is an outrage !" exclaimed Bobby with 
 passion. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Burnit, it is business," said Mr. 
 Trimmer coldly, and, turning, went deliberately into 
 his own room, leaving Bobby standing in the middle 
 of the floor. 
 
 Bobby sprang to that door and threw it open, and 
 Trimmer, who had been secretly trembling all through 
 the interview, turned to him with a quick pallor over- 
 spreading his face, a pallor which Bobby saw and 
 despised and ignored, and which turned his first mad 
 impulse. 
 
 "I'd like to ask one favor of you, Mr. Trimmer," 
 said he. "In moving the furniture out of the John 
 Burnit offices I should be very glad, indeed, if you 
 would order my father's desk removed to my house. 
 It is an old desk and can not possibly be of much use. 
 You may charge its value to my account, please." 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Mr. Trimmer. "I'll have it sent 
 out with pleasure. Is there anything else?" 
 
 "Nothing whatever at present," said Bobby, 
 trembling with the task of holding himself steady, 
 and walked out, unable to analyze the bitter emotions 
 that surged within him. 
 
 On the sidewalk, standing beside his automobile, 
 he found Johnson and Applerod waiting for him, 
 and the moment he saw Johnson, cumbered with the
 
 A SUCCESSION OF SHOCKS 59 
 
 big index-file that he carried beneath his arm, he 
 knew why. 
 
 "Give me the letter, Johnson," he said with a wry 
 smile, and Johnson, answering it with another equally 
 as grim, handed him a gray envelope. 
 
 Applerod, who had been the first to upbraid him, 
 was now the first to recover his spirits. 
 
 "Never mind, Mr. Burnit," said he; "businesses 
 and even fortunes have been lost before and have 
 been regained. There are still ways to make money." 
 
 Bobby did not answer him. He was opening the 
 letter, preparing to stand its contents in much the 
 same spirit that he had often gone to his father to 
 accept a reprimand which he knew he could not in 
 dignity evade. But there was no reprimand. He 
 read: 
 
 "There's no use in telling a young man what to do 
 when he has been gouged. If he's made of the right 
 stuff he'll know, and if he isn't, no amount of telling 
 will put the right stuff in him. I have faith in you. 
 Bobby, or I'd never have let you in for this goring. 
 
 "In the meantime, as there will be no dividends on 
 your stock for ten years to come, what with 'improve- 
 ments, expenses and salaries,' and as you will need to 
 continue your education by embarking in some other 
 line of business before being ripe enough to accom- 
 plish what I am sure you will want to do, you may
 
 60 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 now see your trustee, the only thoroughly sensible 
 person I know who is sincerely devoted to your in- 
 terests. Her name is Agnes EUiston." 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Johnson in sudden 
 concern, and Applerod grabbed him by the arm. 
 
 "Oh, nothing much," said Bobby ; "a little groggy, 
 that's all. The governor just handed me one under 
 the belt. By the way, boys" and they scarcely 
 noted that he no longer said "gentlemen" "if you 
 have nothing better in view I want you to consider 
 yourselves still in my employ. I'm going into busi- 
 ness again at once. If you will call at my house to- 
 morrow forenoon I'll talk with you about it," and 
 anxious to be rid of them he told his driver "Idlers'," 
 and jumped into his automobile. 
 
 Agnes! That surely was giving him a solar- 
 plexus blow! Why, what did the governor mean? 
 It was putting him very much in a kindergarten 
 position with the girl before whom he wanted to 
 make a better impression than before anybody else 
 in all the world. 
 
 It took him a long time to readjust himself to this 
 cataclysm. 
 
 After all, though, was not his father right in this, 
 as he had been in everything else? Humbly Bobby 
 was ready to confess that Agnes had more brains
 
 A SUCCESSION OF SHOCKS 61 
 
 and good common sense than anybody, and was alto- 
 gether about the most loyal and dependable person in 
 all the world, with the single and sole exception of 
 allowing that splendid looking and unknown chap to 
 hang around her so. They were in the congested 
 down-town district now, and as they came to a dead 
 stop at a crossing, Bobby, though immersed in 
 thought, became aware of a short, thick-set man, 
 who, standing at the very edge of the car, was ap- 
 parently trying to stare him out of countenance. 
 
 "Why, hello, Biff!" exclaimed Bobby. "Which 
 way?" 
 
 "Just waiting for a South Side trolley," explained 
 Biff. "Going over to see Kid Mills about that light- 
 weight go we're planning." 
 
 "Jump in," said Bobby, glad of any change in 
 his altogether indefinite program. "I'll take you 
 over." 
 
 On the way he detailed to his athletic friend what 
 had been done to him in the way of business. 
 
 "I know'd it," said BSff excitedly. "I know'd it 
 'from the start. That's why I got old Trimmer to 
 join my class. Made him a special price of next to 
 nothing, and got Doc Willets to go around and tell 
 him he was in Dutch for want of training. Just 
 wait." 
 
 "For what?" asked Bobby, smiling.
 
 62 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Till the next time he comes up," declared Biff 
 vengefully. "Say, do you know I put that shrimp's 
 hour a-purpose just when there wouldn't be a soul up 
 there; and the next time I get him in front of me 
 I'm going to let a few slip that'll jar him from the 
 cellar to the attic; and the next time anybody sees 
 him he'll be nothing but splints and court-plaster." 
 
 "Biff," said Bobby severely, "you'll do nothing of 
 the kind. You'll leave one Silas Trimmer to me. 
 Merely bruising his body won't get back my father's 
 business. Let him alone." 
 
 "But look here, Bobby " 
 
 "No; I say let him alone," insisted Bobby. 
 
 "All right," said Biff sullenly ; "but if you think 
 there's a trick you can turn to double cross this 
 Trimmer you've got another think coming. He's 
 sunk his fangs in the business he's been after all his 
 life, and now you couldn't pry it away from him 
 with a jimmy. You know what I told you about 
 him." 
 
 "I know," said Bobby wearily. "But honestly, 
 Biff, did you ever see me go into a game where I 
 was a loser in the end?" 
 
 "Not till this one," confessed Biff. 
 
 "And this isn't the end," retorted Bobby. 
 
 He knew that when he made such a confident asser- 
 tion that he had nothing upon which to base it ; that
 
 A SUCCESSION OF SHOCKS 63 
 
 he was talking vaguely and at random; but he also 
 knew the intense desire that had arisen in him to re- 
 verse conditions upon the man who had waited until 
 the father died to wrest that father's pride from the 
 son; and in some way he felt coming strength. In 
 Biff's present frame of conviction Bobby was pleased 
 enough to drop him in front of Kid Mills' obscure 
 abode, and turn with a sudden hungry impulse in 
 the direction of Agnes. At the Ellistons', when the 
 chauffeur was about to slow up, Bobby in a panic 
 told him to drive straight on. In the course of half 
 an hour he came back again, and this time pride 
 alone fear of what his chauffeur might think de- 
 termined him to stop. With much trepidation he 
 went up to the door. Agnes was just preparing to 
 go out, and she came down to him in the front 
 parlor. 
 
 "This is only a business call," he confessed with 
 as much appearance of gaiety as he could summon 
 under the circumstance. "I've come around to see my 
 trustee." 
 
 "So soon?" she said, with quick sympathy in her 
 voice. "I'm so sorry, Bobby! But I suppose, after 
 all, the sooner it happened the better. Tell me all 
 about it. What was the cause of it?" 
 
 "You wouldn't marry me," charged Bobby. "If 
 you had this never would have happened."
 
 64 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 She shook her head and smiled, but she laid her 
 hand upon his arm and drew closer to him. 
 
 "I'm afraid it would, Bobby. You might have 
 asked my advice, but I expect you wouldn't have taken 
 it." 
 
 "I guess you're right about that," admitted 
 
 Bobby ; "but if you'd only married me Honest, 
 
 Agnes, when are you going to?" 
 
 "I shall not commit myself," she replied, smiling 
 up at him rather wistfully. 
 
 "There's somebody else," declared Bobby, in- 
 stantly assured by this evasiveness that the unknown 
 had something to do with the matter. 
 
 "If there were, it would be my affair entirely, 
 wouldn't it?" she wanted to know, still smiling. 
 
 "No!" he declared emphatically. "It would be 
 my affair. But really I want to know. Will you, if 
 I get my father's business back?" 
 
 "I'll not promise," she said. "Why, Bobby, the 
 way you put it, you would be binding me not to 
 marry you in case you didn't get it back!" and she 
 laughed at him. "But let's talk business now. I 
 was just starting out upon your affairs, the secur- 
 ing of some bonds for which the lawyer I have em- 
 ployed has been negotiating, so you may take me 
 up there and he will arrange to get you the two 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars you are to have.
 
 They'll double-cross you, though, to a fare-ye-well
 
 A SUCCESSION OF SHOCKS 65 
 
 It's for a new start, without restrictions except that 
 you are to engage in business with it. That's all 
 the instructions I have." 
 
 "Thanks," said Bobby, with a gulp. "Honestly, 
 Agnes, it's a shame. It's a low-down trick the gov- 
 ernor played to put me in this helplessly belittled 
 position with you." 
 
 "Why, how strange," she replied quietly. "I look 
 upon it as a most graceful and agreeable position 
 for myself." 
 
 "Oh!" he exclaimed blankly, as it occurred to him 
 just how uncomfortable the situation must be to her, 
 and he reproached himself with selfishness in not 
 having thought of this phase of the matter before. 
 "That's a fact," he admitted. "I say, Agnes, I'll 
 say no more about that end of it if you don't; and, 
 after all, I'm glad, too. It gives me a legitimate 
 excuse to see you much oftener." 
 
 "Gracious, no !" she protested. "You fill up every 
 spare moment that I have now; but so long as you 
 are here on business this time, let's attend to business. 
 You may take me up to see Mr. Chalmers. By the 
 way, I want you to meet him, anyhow. You have 
 seen him, I believe, once or twice. He was here one 
 day when you called, and he was walking with me in 
 the lobby of the theater when you came in to join us 
 one evening."
 
 66 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Y-e-s," drawled Bobby, as if he were placing the 
 man with difficulty. 
 
 "The Chalmers' are charming people," she went on. 
 "His wife is perfectly fascinating. We used to go to 
 school together. They have only been married three 
 months, and when they came here to go into business 
 I was very glad to throw such of your father's estate 
 as I am to handle into his hands. Whenever they 
 are ready I want to engineer them into our set, but 
 they live very quietly now. I know you'll like them." 
 
 "Oh, I'm sure I will," agreed Bobby heartily, and 
 his face was positively radiant, as, for some unac- 
 countable reason, he clutched her hand. She lifted 
 it up beneath his arm, around which, for one ecstatic 
 moment, she clasped her other hand, and together 
 they went out into the hall, Bobby, simply driveling 
 in his supreme happiness, allowing her to lead him 
 wheresoever she listed. Still in the joy of knowing 
 that his one dreaded rival was removed in so pleas- 
 ant a fashion, he handed her into the automobile and 
 they started out to see Mr. Chalmers. Their way led 
 down Grand Street, past the John Burnit Store, 
 and with all that had happened still rankling sorely 
 in his mind, Bobby looked up and gave a gasp. 
 Workmen were taking down the plain, dignified old 
 sign of the John Burnit Store from the top of the 
 building, and in its place they were raising up a
 
 A SUCCESSION OF SHOCKS 67 
 
 glittering new one, ordered by Silas Trimmer on the 
 very day Bobby had agreed to go into the consolida- 
 tion ; and it read : 
 
 "TRIMMER AND COMPANY"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 PINK-CHEEKED APPLEROD RUSHES TO" THE EESCUE 
 WITH A GOLDEN SCHEME 
 
 AGNES had been surprised into an exclam- 
 ation of dismay by that new sign, but she 
 checked it abruptly as she saw Bobby's 
 face. She could divine, but she could not fully know, 
 how that had hurt him ; how the pain of it had sunk 
 into his soul; how the humiliation of it had tingled 
 in every fiber of him. For an instant his breath 
 had! stopped, his heart had swelled as if it would burst, 
 a great lump had come in his throat, a sob almost tore 
 its way through his clenched teeth. He caught his 
 breath sharply, his jaws set and his nostrils dilated, 
 then the color came slowly back to his cheeks. Agnes, 
 though longing to do so, had feared to lay her hand 
 even upon his sleeve in sympathy lest she might un- 
 man him, but now she saw that she need not have 
 feared. It had not weakened him, this blow; it had 
 strengthened him. 
 
 "That's brutal," he said steadily, though the 
 steadiness was purely a matter of will. "We must 
 change that sign before we do anything else." 
 68
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 69 
 
 "Of course," she answered simply. 
 
 Involuntarily she stretched out her small gloved 
 Hand, and with it touched his own. Looking back once 
 more for a fleeting glimpse at the ascending symbol 
 of his defeat, he gripped her hand so hard that she 
 almost cried out with the pain of it; but she did not 
 wince. When he suddenly remembered, with a fright- 
 ened apology, and laid her hand upon her lap and 
 patted it, her fingers seemed as if they had been com- 
 pressed into a numb mass, and she separated them 
 slowly and with difficulty. Afterward she remem- 
 bered that as a dear hurt, after all, for in it she 
 shared his pain. 
 
 While they were still stunned and silent under Silas 
 Trimmer's parting blow, the machine drew up at the 
 curb in front of the building in which Chalmers had 
 his office. Chalmers, Bobby found, was a most agree- 
 able fellow, to whom he took an instant liking. It 
 was strange what different qualities the man seemed 
 to possess than when Bobby had first seen him in the 
 company of Agnes. Their business there was very 
 brief. Chalmers held for Bobby, subject to Agnes' 
 order as trustee, the sum of two hundred and fifty 
 thousand dollars in instantly convertible securities, 
 and when they left, Bobby had a check for that 
 amount comfortably tucked in his pocket. 
 
 There was another brief visit to the office of old
 
 70 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Mr. Barrister, where Agnes, again as Bobby's trustee, 
 exhibited the papers Chalmers had made out for her, 
 showing that the funds previously left in her charge 
 had been duly paid over to Bobby as per the pro- 
 visions of the will, and thereupon filed her order for 
 a similar amount. Bjarrister received them with an 
 "I told you so" air which amounted almost to satis- 
 faction. He was quite used to seeing the sons of rich 
 men hastening to become poor men, and he had so 
 evidently classed Bobby as one of the regular sort, 
 that Bobby took quite justifiable umbrage and de- 
 cided that if he had any legal business whatever he 
 would put it into the hands of Chalmers. 
 
 He spent the rest of the day with Agnes and took 
 dinner at the Ellistons', where jolly Aunt Constance 
 and shrewd Uncle Dan, in genuine sympathy, de- 
 sisted so palpably from their usual joking about his 
 "business career," that Bobby was more ill at ease 
 than if they had said all the grimly humorous things 
 which popped into their minds. For that reason he 
 went home rather early, and tumbled into bed resolv- 
 ing upon the new future he was to face to-morrow. 
 * At least, he consoled himself with a sigh, he was 
 now a man of experience. He had learned something 
 of the world. He was not further to be hoodwinked. 
 His last confused vision was of Silas Trimmer on his 
 knees begging for mercy, and the next thing he knew
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 71 
 
 was th'at some one was reminding him, with' annoying 
 insistency, of the early call he had left. 
 
 The world looked brighter that morning, and he 
 was quite hopeful when, in the dim old study, seated 
 at his father's desk and with the portrait of stern 
 old John Burnit frowning and yet shrewdly twin- 
 kling down upon him, he received Johnson, dry and 
 sour looking as if he expected ill news, and Applerod, 
 bright and radiant as if Fortune's purse were just 
 about to open to him. 
 
 "Well, boys," said Bobby cheerily, "we're going to 
 stick right together. We're going to start into a new 
 business as soon as we can find one that suits us, and 
 your employment begins from this minute. We're be- 
 ginning with a capital of two hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars," and rather pompously he spread the 
 check upon the desk. His pompousness faded in some- 
 thing under fifteen seconds, for it was in about that 
 length of time that he caught sight of a plain gray 
 envelope then in the process of emerging from John- 
 son's pocket. He accepted it with something of re- 
 luctance, but opened it nevertheless ; and this was the 
 message of the late John Burnit : 
 
 To my Son Upon the Occasion of his Being Intrusted 
 With Real Money 
 
 "In most cases the difference between spending
 
 72 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 money and investing it is wholly a matter of speed. 
 Not one man in ten knows when and where and how 
 to put a dollar properly to work ; so the only financial 
 education I expect you to get out of an attempt to go 
 into business is a painful lesson in subtraction." 
 
 "This letter, Johnson, is only a delicate intimation 
 from the governor that I'll make another blooming 
 ass of myself with this," commented Bobby, tapping 
 his finger on the check, and placing the letter face 
 downward beside it, where he eyed it askance. 
 
 "A quarter of a million !" observed Applerod, roll- 
 ing out the amount with relish. "A great deal can be 
 done with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, you 
 know." 
 
 "That's just the point," observed Bobby with a 
 frown of perplexity, directed alternately to the faith- 
 ful gentlemen who for upward of thirty years had 
 been his father's right and left bowers. "What am I 
 to do with it? Johnson, what would you do with two 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars ?" 
 
 "Lose it," confessed stooped and bloodless John- 
 son. "I never made a dollar out of a dollar in my 
 life." 
 
 "What would you do with it, r Applerod?" 
 
 Mr. Applerod, scarcely able to contain himself, 
 had been eagerly awaiting that question. 
 
 "Purchase, improve and market the Westmarsh Ad-
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 73 
 
 dition," he said promptly, expanding fully two inches 
 across his already rotund chest. 
 
 "What?" snorted Johnson, and cast upon his work- 
 mate a look of withering scorn. "Are you still dream- 
 ing about the possibilities of that old swamp ?" 
 
 "To be sure it is a swamp," admitted Mr. Apple- 
 rod with some heat. "Do you suppose you could buy 
 one hundred and twenty acres of directly accessible 
 land, almost at the very edge of the crowded city 
 limits, at two hundred dollars an acre if it wasn't 
 swamp land?" he demanded. "Why, Mr. Burnit, it 
 is the opportunity of a lifetime !" 
 
 "How much capital would be needed?" asked 
 Bobby, gravely assuming the callous, inquisitorial 
 manner of the ideal business man. 
 
 "Well, I've managed to buy up twenty acres out of 
 my savings, and there are still one hundred acres to 
 be purchased, which will take twenty thousand dol- 
 lars. But this is the small part of it. Drainage, fill- 
 ing and grading is to be done, streets and sidewalks 
 ought to be put down, a gift club-house, which would 
 serve at first as an office, would be a good thing to 
 build, and the thing would have to be most thoroughly 
 advertised. I've figured on it for years, and it would 
 require, all told, about a two-hundred-thousand invest- 
 ment." 
 
 "And what would be the return?" asked Bobby
 
 74 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 without blinking at these big figures, and proud of 
 his attitude, which, while conservative, was still one 
 of openness to conviction. 
 
 "Figure it out for yourself," Mr. Applerod in- 
 vited him with much enthusiasm. "We get ten build- 
 ing lots to the acre, turning one hundred and twenty 
 acres into one thousand two hundred lots. Improved 
 sites at any point surrounding this tract can not be 
 bought for less than twenty-five dollars per front foot. 
 Corner lots and those in the best locations would bring 
 much more, but taking the average price at only six 
 hundred dollars per lot, we would have, as a total 
 return for the investment, seven hundred and twenty 
 thousand dollars !" 
 
 "In how long?" Bobby inquired, not allowing him- 
 self to become in the slightest degree excited. 
 
 "One year," announced the optimistic Mr. Apple- 
 rod with conviction. 
 
 Mr. Johnson, his lips glued tightly together in one 
 firm, thin, straight line across his face, was glaring 
 steadfastly at the corner of the ceiling, permitting no 
 expression whatever to flicker in his eyes ; noting 
 which, Bobby turned to him with a point-blank ques- 
 tion: 
 
 "What do you think of this opportunity, Mr. John- 
 son?" he asked. 
 
 Mr. Johnson glared quickly at Mr. Applerod.
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 75 
 
 "Tell him," defied that gentleman. 
 
 "I think nothing whatever of it!" snapped Mr. 
 Johnson. 
 
 "What is your chief ground of objection?" Bobby 
 wanted to know. 
 
 Again Mr. Johnson glared quickly at Mr. Apple- 
 rod. 
 
 "Tell him," insisted that gentleman with an out- 
 ward wave of both hands, expressive of his intense 
 desire to have every secret of his own soul and of 
 everybody's else laid bare. 
 
 "I will," said Johnson. "Your father, a dozen 
 times in my own hearing, refused to have anything 
 to do with the scheme." 
 
 Bobby turned accusing eyes upon Applerod, who, 
 though red of face, was still strong of assertion. 
 
 "Mr. Burnit never declined on any other grounds 
 than that he already had too many irons in the fire," 
 he declared. "Tell him that, too, Johnson !" 
 
 "It was only his polite way of putting it," retorted 
 Mr. Johnson. 
 
 "John Burnit was noted for his polite way of put- 
 ting his business conclusions," snapped Applerod in 
 return, whereat Bobby smiled with gleeful reminis- 
 cence, and Mr. Johnson smiled grimly, albeit reluc- 
 tantly, and Mr. Applerod smiled triumphantly. 
 
 "I can see the governor doing it," laughed Bobby,
 
 76 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 and dismissed the matter. "Mr. Johnson, as a start 
 in business we may as well turn this study into a tem- 
 porary office. Take this check down to the Commer- 
 cial Bank, please, and open an account. You already 
 have power of attorney for my signature. Procure 
 a small set of books and open them. Make out for me 
 against this account at the Commercial a check for 
 ten thousand, Mr. Applerod, kindly reduce your 
 swamp proposition to paper and let me have it by to- 
 morrow. I'll not promise that I will do anything with 
 it, but it would be only fair to examine it." 
 
 With these crisp remarks, upon the decisiveness of 
 which Bobby prided himself very much, he left the two 
 to open business for him under the supervision of the 
 portrait of stern but humor-given old John Burnit. 
 
 "Applerod," said Johnson indignantly, his lean 
 frame almost quivering, "it is a wonder to me that 
 you can look up at that picture and reflect that you 
 are trying to drag John Burnit's son into this fool 
 scheme." 
 
 "Johnson," said Mr. Applerod, puffing out his 
 cheeks indignantly, "you were given the first chance 
 to advise Mr. Robert what he should do with his 
 money, and you failed to do so. This is a magnificent 
 business opportunity, and I should consider myself 
 very remiss in my duty to John Burnit's son if I 
 failed to urge it upon him."
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 77 
 
 Mr. Johnson picked up the letter that Bobby, evi- 
 dently not caring whether they read it or not, had 
 left behind him. He ran through it with a grim smile 
 and handed it over to Applerod as his best retort. 
 
 At the home of Agnes Elliston Bobby's car stopped 
 almost as a matter of habit, and though the hour was 
 a most informal one he walked up the steps as con- 
 fidently as if he intended opening the door with a 
 latch-key; for since Agnes was become his trustee, 
 Bobby had awakened, overnight, to the fact that he 
 had a proprietary interest in her which could not be 
 denied. 
 
 Agnes came down to meet him in a most ravishing 
 morning robe of pale green, a confection so stunning 
 in conjunction with her gold-brown eyes and waving 
 brown hair and round white throat that Bobby was 
 forced to audible comment upon it. 
 
 "Cracking!" said he. "I suppose that if I hadn't 
 had nerve enough to pop in here unexpectedly before 
 noon I wouldn't have seen that gown for ages." 
 
 It was Aunt Constance, the irrepressible, who, lean- 
 ing over the stair railing, sank the iron deep into his 
 soul. 
 
 "It was bought at Trimmer and Company's, Grand 
 Street side, Bobby," she informed him, and with this 
 Parthian shot she went back through the up-stairs 
 hall, laughing.
 
 78 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Ouch!" said Bobby. "That was snowballing a 
 cripple," and he was really most woebegone about it. 
 
 "Never mind, Bobby, you have still plenty of 
 chance to win," comforted Agnes, who, though laugh- 
 ing, had sympathetic inkling of that sore spot which 
 had been touched. He seemed so forlorn, in spite of 
 his big, good-natured self, that she moved closer to 
 him and unconsciously put her hand upon his arm. 
 It was too much for him in view of the way she looked, 
 and, suddenly emboldened, he did a thing the mere 
 thought of which, under premeditation, would have 
 scared him into a frapped perspiration. He placed 
 his hands upon her shoulders, and, drawing her 
 toward him, bent swiftly down to kiss her. For a fleet- 
 ing instant she drew back, and then Bobby had the 
 surprise of his life, for her warm lips met his quite 
 willingly, and with a frank pressure almost equal to 
 his own. She sprang back from him at once with 
 sparkling eyes, but he had no mind to follow up his 
 advantage, for he was dazed. It had left him breath- 
 less, amazed, incredulous. He stood for a full minute, 
 his face gone white with the overwhelming wonder of 
 this thing that had happened to him, and then the 
 blunt directness which was part of his inheritance 
 from his father returned to him. 
 
 "Well, anyhow, we're to be engaged at last," he 
 said.
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 79 
 
 "No," she rebuked him, with a sudden flash of mis- 
 chief ; "that was perfectly wicked, and you mustn't 
 do it again." 
 
 "But I will," he said, advancing with heightened 
 color. 
 
 "You mustn't," she said firmly, and although she 
 did not recede farther from him he stopped. "You 
 mustn't make it hard for us, Bobby," she warned him. 
 "I'm under promise, too ; and that's all I can tell you 
 now." 
 
 "The governor again," groaned Bobby. "I sup- 
 pose that I'm not to talk to you about marrying, 
 nor you to listen, until I have proved my right and 
 ability to take care of you and your fortune and 
 mine. Is that it?" 
 
 She smiled inscrutably. 
 
 "What brings you at this unearthly hour?" she 
 asked by way of evasion. "Some business pretext, I'll 
 be bound." 
 
 "Of course it is," he assured her. "This morning 
 you are strictly in the role of my trustee. I want you 
 to look at some property." 
 
 "But I have an appointment with my dressmaker." 
 
 "The dressmaker must wait." 
 
 "What a warning!" she laughed. "If you would 
 order a mere a mere acquaintance around so per- 
 emptorily, what would you do if you were married?"
 
 80 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I'd be the boss," announced Bjobby with calm con- 
 fidence. 
 
 "Indeed?" she mocked, and started into the library. 
 "You'd ask permission first, wouldn't you ?" 
 
 "Where are you going?" he queried in return, and 
 grinned. 
 
 "To telephone my dressmaker," she admitted, smil- 
 ing, and realizing, too, that it was not all banter. 
 
 "I told you to, remember," asserted Bobby, with a 
 strange new sense of masterfulness which would not 
 down. 
 
 When she came down again, dressed for the trip, 
 he was still in that dazed elation, and it lasted through 
 their brisk ride to the far outskirts of the city, where, 
 at the side of a watery marsh that extended for nearly 
 a mile along the roadway, he halted. 
 
 "This is it," waving his hand across the dismal 
 waste. 
 
 "It!" she repeated. "What?" 
 
 "The property that it was suggested I buy." 
 
 "No wonder your father thought it necessary to 
 appoint a trustee," was her first comment. "Why, 
 Bobby, what on earth could you do with it? It's too 
 large for a frog farm and too small for a summer re- 
 sort," and once more she turned incredulous eyes upon 
 the "property." 
 
 Dark, oily water covered the entire expanse, and
 
 APPLEROD TO THE RESCUE 81 
 
 through it emerged, here and there, clumps of dank 
 vegetation, from the nature and dispersement of 
 which one could judge that the water varied from one 
 to three feet in depth. Higher ground surrounded it 
 on all sides, and the urgent needs of suburban growth 
 had scattered a few small, cheap cottages, here and 
 there, upon the hills. 
 
 "It doesn't seem very attractive until you consider 
 those houses," Bobby confessed. "You must remem- 
 ber that the city hasn't room to grow, and must take 
 note that it is trying to spread in this direction. 
 Wouldn't a fellow be doing a rather public-spirited 
 thing, and one in which he might take quite a bit of 
 satisfaction, if he drained that swamp, filled it, laid 
 out streets and turned the whole stretch into a cluster 
 of homes in place of a breeding-place for fevers?" 
 
 "You talk just like a civic improvement society," 
 she said, laughing. 
 
 "We did have a chap lecturing on that down at the 
 club a few nights ago," he admitted, "and maybe I 
 have picked up a bit of the talk. But wouldn't it be a 
 good thing, anyhow?" 
 
 "Oh, I quite approve of it, now that I see your 
 plan," she agreed; "but could it be made to pay?" 
 
 "Well," he returned with a grave assumption of 
 that businesslike air he had recently been trying to 
 copy down at the Traders' Club, "there are one hun-
 
 82 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 dred and twenty acres in the tract. I can buy it for 
 two hundred dollars an acre, and sell each acre, in 
 building lots, for full six thousand. It seems to me 
 that this is enough margin to carry out the needed 
 improvements and make the marketing of it worth 
 while. What do you think of it?" 
 
 They both gazed out over that desolate expanse and 
 tried to picture it dotted with comfortable cottages, 
 set down in grassy lawns that bordered on white, clean 
 streets, and the idea of the transformation was an at- 
 tractive one. 
 
 "It looks to me like a perfectly splendid idea," 
 Agnes admitted. "I wonder what your father would 
 have thought of it." 
 
 "Well," confessed Bobby a trifle reluctantly, "this 
 very proposition was presented to him several times, I 
 believe, but he always declined to go into it." 
 
 "Then," decided Agnes, so quickly and emphatic- 
 ally that it startled him, "don't touch it!" 
 
 "Oh, but you see," he reminded her, "the governor 
 couldn't go Into everything that was offered him, and 
 to this plan he never urged any objection but that he 
 had too many irons in the fire." 
 
 "I wouldn't touch it," declared Agnes, and that was 
 her final word in the matter, despite all his arguments. 
 If John Burnit had declined to go into it, no matter 
 for what reason, the plan was not worth considering.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 BOBBY SUCCEEDS IN SNAPPING A BARGAIN FROM UNDER 
 
 SILAS TRIMMER'S NOSE 
 
 STILL undecided, but carrying seriously the 
 thought that he must overlook no opportunity 
 if he was to prove himself the successful man 
 that his father had so ardently wished him to become, 
 Bobby dropped into the Idlers' Club for lunch, where 
 Nick Allstyne and Payne Winthrop hailed him as one 
 returned from the dead. 
 
 "Just the chap," declared Nick. "Stan Rogers has 
 written me that I'm to scrape the regular crowd to- 
 gether and come up to his new Canadian lodge for a 
 hunt. Stag affair, you know. Real sport and no 
 pink-coat pretense." 
 
 "Sorry, Nick," said Bobby, pluming himself a trifle 
 upon his steadfastness to duty, "but I know what 
 Stan's stag affairs are like. It would mean two weeks 
 at least, and I could not spare that much time from 
 the city." 
 
 "Business again !" groaned Payne in mock dismay. 
 83
 
 84 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "T!his grasping greed for gain is blighting the most 
 promising young men of our avaricious country. 
 Why, it's positively shameful, Bobby, when your fa- 
 ther must have left you over three million." 
 
 "Two hundred and fifty thousand, so far as I'm al- 
 lowed to inquire just now," corrected Bobby; "and 
 I'm ordered to go into business with that and prove 
 that I'm not such a blithering idiot that I can't be 
 trusted with the rest of it, whatever there is." 
 
 "But I thought you'd had your trial by fire and 
 pulled out of it," interposed Nick. "I heard that you 
 had sold your interests or something, and when I saw 
 a new sign over the store I knew that it was true. 
 Sensible thing, I call it." 
 
 "Sensible !" winced Bobby. "You're allowing me a 
 mighty pleasant way out of it, but the fact of the 
 matter is that I lost in such a stinging way I'm bound 
 to get back into the game and do nothing else until I 
 win," and he explained how Silas Trimmer had per- 
 formed upon him a neat and delicate operation in com- 
 mercial surgery. 
 
 They were properly sympathetic; not that they 
 cared much about business, but if Bobby had entered 
 any game whatsoever in which he had been soundly 
 beaten, they could quite understand his desire to stay 
 in that game until he could show points on the right 
 side.
 
 BOBBY SNAPS A BARGAIN 85 
 
 "Nevertheless," Nick urged, "you ought to take a 
 little breathing spell in between." 
 
 All through lunch, and through the game of bil- 
 liards which followed, they strove to make him see the 
 error of his ways, but Bobby was obdurate, and at 
 last they gave him up as a bad job, with the grave 
 prediction that later he would find himself nothing 
 more nor less than a beast of burden. When he left 
 them Bobby was surprised at himself. For a time he 
 had feared that in his declaration of such close atten- 
 tion to business he might be posing; but he found 
 that to miss a stag hunting party, which heretofore 
 had been one of his keenest delights, weighed upon 
 him not at all; found actually that he would far 
 rather stay in the city to engage in the game of 
 finance which was unfolding before him! He came 
 upon this surprising discovery while he was on his 
 way across to a side street, where, on the fourth floor 
 of a store and warehouse building, he let himself in at 
 a wide door with a latch-key and entered the gymna- 
 sium of Biff Bates. That gentleman, in trunks, 
 sweater and sandals, was padding all alone around and 
 around the edge of the hall at a steady jog, which, 
 after twenty solid minutes, had left no effect whatever 
 upon his respiration. 
 
 "Getting fat as a butcher again," he announced as 
 he trotted steadily around to Bobby, suddenly stop-
 
 86 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 ping short with an expansive grin across his wide face 
 and a handshake that it took an athlete to withstand. 
 "Got to cut it down or it'll put me on the blink. 
 What's the best thing you know, chum?" 
 
 "How does this hit you?" asked Bobby, taking 
 from his pocket the check Johnson had given him that 
 morning. 
 
 Mr. Bates looked at it with his hands behind him. 
 
 "Pleased to make your acquaintance," he said to 
 the slip of paper, nodding profoundly. 
 
 "Oh, everybody's friendly to these," said Bobby, 
 indorsing the check. "It is for the new gymnasium," 
 he explained. "Now, partner, turn loose and monopo- 
 lize the physical training business of this city." 
 
 "Partner!" scorned Mr. Bates. "Look here, old 
 pal, there's only one way I'll take this big ticket, and 
 that is that you'll drag down your split of the 
 profits." 
 
 "But don't I on this place?" protested Bobby. 
 
 "Nit!" retorted Mr. Bates with infinite scorn. "You 
 put them right back into the business, but that don't 
 go any more. If we start this big joint it's got to be 
 partners right, see? Or else take back this wealthy 
 handwriting. I don't guess I want it, anyhow. From 
 past performances you need all the money in the 
 world, and ten thousand simoleons will put a crimp in 
 any wad."
 
 BOBBY SNAPS A BARGAIN 87 
 
 "No," laughed Bobby; "you're saving it for me 
 "when you take it. I've just read a very nice note, left 
 for me by the governor, that I'll be a fool and lose 
 anyhow." 
 
 Mr. Bates grinned. 
 
 "You will, all right, all right, if you're going into 
 business," he admitted, and stuffed the check in the 
 upturned cuff of his sweater. "After these profit- 
 and-loss artists get your goat on all the starts your 
 old man left you, maybe I'll have to put up the eats 
 and sleeps for you anyhow; huh?" and Mr. Bates 
 laughed with keen enjoyment of this delicately ex- 
 pressed idea. "How are you going to divorce your- 
 self from the rest of it, Bobby?" 
 
 "I'm not quite sure," said Bobby. "You know that 
 big stretch of swamp land, out on the Millberg 
 Road?" 
 
 "Where Paddy Dolan fell in and died from drinkin' 
 too much water? Sure I do." 
 
 "Well, it has been suggested to me that I buy it, 
 drain it, fill it, put in paved streets, cut it up into 
 building lots and sell it." 
 
 "And build it full of these pale yellow shacks that 
 the honest working slob buys with seventeen years of 
 his wages, and then loses the shack?" Biff incredu- 
 lously wanted to know. 
 
 "You guessed wrong, Biff," laughed Bobby. "Just
 
 88 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 selling the lots will be enough for me. What do you 
 think of it?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Mr. Bates thoughtfully. "I 
 know they frame up such stunts and boost 'em strong 
 in the papers, and if any of these real-estate sharps 
 is working just for their healths they've been stung 
 from all I've seen of 'em. But the main point is, who's 
 the guy that's tryin' to lead you to it?" 
 
 "Oh, that part's all right," replied Bobby with per- 
 fect assurance. "The man who wants me to finance 
 this, and who has already bought some of the land, 
 was one of my father's right-hand men for nearly 
 thirty years." 
 
 "Then that's all right," agreed Mr. Bates. "But 
 say !" he suddenly exclaimed as a new thought struck 
 him ; "it's a wonder this right-mitt mut of your fa- 
 ther's didn't make the old man fall for it long ago, if 
 it's such a hot muffin." 
 
 "He did try it," confessed Bobby with hesitation 
 for the second time that day; "but the governor al- 
 ways complained that he had too many other irons in 
 the fire." 
 
 "He did, did he?" Mr. Bates wanted to know, fix- 
 ing accusing eyes on Bobby. "Then don't be the fall 
 guy for any other touting. Your old man knew this 
 business dope from Sheepshead Bay to Oakland. You 
 take it from me that this tip ain't the one best bet."
 
 BOBBY SNAPS A BARGAIN 89 
 
 Bobby left the gymnasium with a certain degree of 
 dissatisfaction, not only with Mr. Applerod's scheme 
 but with the fact that wherever he went his father's 
 business wisdom was thrown into his teeth. That even- 
 ing, drawn to the atmosphere into which events had 
 plunged him, he dined at the Traders' Club. As he 
 passed one of the tables Silas Trimmer leered up at 
 him with the circular smile, which, bisected by a row 
 of yellow teeth and hooded with a bristle of stubby 
 mustache, had now come to aggravate him almost past 
 endurance. To-night it made him approach his din- 
 ner with vexation, and, failing to find the man he had 
 sought, he finished hastily. As he went out, Silas 
 Trimmer, though looking straight in his direction, 
 did not seem to be at all aware of Bobby's approach. 
 He was deep in a business discussion with his prig- 
 gish son-in-law. 
 
 "It's a great opportunity," he was loudly insisting. 
 "If I can secure that land I'll drain and improve it 
 and cut it up into building lots. This city is ripe for 
 a suburban boom." 
 
 That settled it with Bobby. No matter what argu- 
 ments there might be to the contrary, if Silas Trim- 
 mer had his eye on that piece of property, Bobby 
 wanted it. 
 
 Applerod, though eagerness brought him early, 
 had no sooner entered the study next morning than
 
 90 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 j 
 
 Bobby, who was already dressed for business and who 
 had his machine standing outside the door, met him 
 briskly. 
 
 "Keep your hat on, Applerod," he ordered. "We'll 
 go right around and buy the rest of that property at 
 once." 
 
 "I thought those figures I left last night would 
 convince you," beamed Mr. Applerod. 
 
 There is no describing the delight and pride with 
 which that highly-gratified gentleman followed the 
 energetic young Mr. Burnit to the curb, nor the dig- 
 nity with which, a few minutes later, he led the way 
 into the office of one Thorne, real-estate dealer. 
 
 "Mr. Thorne, Mr. Robert Burnit," said Mr. Ap- 
 plerod, hastening straight to business. "Mr. Burnit 
 has come around to close the deal for that Westmarsh 
 property." 
 
 Mr. Thorne was suavity itself as he shook hands 
 with Mr. Burnit, but the most aching regret was in 
 his tone as he spoke. 
 
 "I'm very sorry indeed, Mr. Burnit," he stated; 
 "but that property, which, by the way, seems very 
 much in demand, passed out of my hands yesterday 
 afternoon." 
 
 "To whom?" Mr. Applerod excitedly wanted to 
 know. "I think you might have let us have time to 
 turn around, Thorne. I spoke about it to you yester-
 
 BOBBY SNAPS A BARGAIN 91 
 
 day morning, you know, and said that I felt quite 
 hopeful Mr. Burnit would buy it." 
 
 "I know," said Mr. Thome, politely but coldly; 
 "and I told you at the time we talked about it that 
 I never hold anything in the face of a bona fide 
 offer." 
 
 "But who has it?" Bobby insisted, more eager now 
 to get it, since it had slipped away from him, than 
 ever before. 
 
 "The larger portion of it, the ninety-two acres ad- 
 joining Mr. Applerod's twenty," Mr. Thorne advised 
 him, "was taken up by Miles, Eddy and Company. 
 The north eight acres are owned by Mr. Silas Trim- 
 mer, and I am quite positive, from what Mr. Trim- 
 mer told me, not two hours later, that this parcel is 
 not for sale." 
 
 Bobby's heart sank. Eight acres of that land had 
 already been gobbled up by Silas Trimmer, and, no 
 doubt, that astute and energetic business gentleman 
 was now after the balance. 
 
 "Where is the office of Miles, Eddy and Company?" 
 Bobby asked, with a crispness that pleased him tre- 
 mendously as he used it. 
 
 "Twenty-six Plum Street," Mr. Thorne advised 
 him. 
 
 "Thanks," said Bobby, and whirled out of the door, 
 followed by the disconsolate Applerod.
 
 92 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 'At the office of Miles, Eddy and Company better 
 luck awaited them. 
 
 Yes, that firm had secured possession of the West- 
 marsh ninety-two acres. Yes, the property was listed 
 for sale, having been bought strictly for speculative 
 purposes. And its figure? The price was now three 
 hundred dollars per acre. 
 
 'Til take it," said Bobby. 
 
 There was positive triumph in his voice as he an- 
 nounced this decision. He would show Silas Trimmer 
 that he was awake at last, that he was not to be beaten 
 in every deal. 
 
 "Twenty-seven thousand six hundred dollars," said 
 Bobby, figuring the amount on a pad he picked up 
 from Mr. Eddy's desk. "Very well. Allow me to use 
 your telephone a moment. Mr. Chalmers," directed 
 Bobby when he had his new lawyer on the wire, 
 "kindly get into communication with Miles, Eddy 
 and Company and look up the title on ninety-two 
 acres of Westmarsh property which they have for 
 sale. If the title is clear the price is to be three hun- 
 dred dollars per acre, for which amount you will have 
 a check, payable to your order, within half an hour." 
 
 Then to Johnson biting his pen-handle in Bobby's 
 study and wondering where his principal and Apple- 
 rod could be at this hour he telephoned to deliver a 
 check in the amount of twenty-seven thousand six
 
 BOBBY SNAPS A BARGAIN 93 
 
 hundred dollars to Mr. Chalmers. Never, since he had 
 been plunged into "business," had Bobby been so 
 elated with himself as when he walked from the office 
 of Miles, Eddy and Company; and, to keep up the 
 good work, as soon as he reached the hall he turned 
 to Applerod with a crisp, ringing voice, which was 
 the product of that elation. 
 
 "Now for an engineer," he said. 
 
 "Already as good as secured," Mr. Applerod an- 
 nounced, triumphant that every necessity had been 
 anticipated. "Jimmy Platt, son of an old neighbor of 
 mine. Fine, smart boy, and knows all about the West- 
 marsh proposition. Bless you, I figured on this with 
 him every vacation during his schooling !" 
 
 An hour later, Bobby, Mr. Applerod and the se- 
 cretly jubilant Jimmy Platt had sped out Westmarsh 
 way, and were inspecting the hundred and twelve acres 
 of swamp which the new firm of Burnit and Applerod 
 held between them. 
 
 "It's a fine job," said the young engineer, coveting 
 anew the tremendous task as he bent upon it an ad- 
 miring professional eye. "This time next year you 
 won't recognize the place. It's a noble thing, Mr. 
 Burnit, to turn an utterly useless stretch of swamp 
 like this into habitable land. Have you secured the 
 entire tract?" 
 
 "Unfortunately, no," Bobby confessed with a
 
 94 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 frown. "The extreme north eight acres are owned 
 by another party." 
 
 "And when you drain your property," mused 
 Jimmy, smiling, "you will drain his." 
 
 "Not if I can help it," declared Bobby emphati- 
 cally. 
 
 "You must come to some arrangement before you 
 begin," warned the engineer with the severe profes- 
 sional authority common to the quite young. Already, 
 however, he was trying to grow regulation engineer's 
 whiskers ; also he immediately planned to get mar- 
 ried upon the proceeds of this big job, which, after 
 years of chimerical dreaming, had become too real, 
 almost, to be believed. "Perhaps you could get the 
 owner to stand his proportionate share of the expense 
 of drainage." 
 
 Bobby smiled at the suggestion but made no other 
 answer. He knew Silas Trimmer, or thought that he 
 did, and the idea of Silas bearing a portion of a huge 
 expense like this, when he could not be forced to 
 shoulder it, struck him as distinctly humorous.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AGNES DELIVERS BOBBY A NOTE FROM OLD JOHN 
 BURNIT IN A GRAY ENVELOPE 
 
 THAT night, at the Traders' Club, Bobby was 
 surprised when Mr. Trimmer walked over to 
 his table and dropped his pudgy trunk and 
 his lean limbs into a chair beside him. His yellow 
 countenance was creased with ingratiating wrinkles, 
 and the smile behind his immovable mustache became 
 of perfectly flawless circumference as his muddy black 
 eyes peered at Bobby through thick spectacles. It 
 seemed to Bobby that there was malice in the wrinkles 
 about those eyes, but the address of Mr. Trimmer was 
 most conciliatory. 
 
 "I have a fuss to pick with you, young man," he 
 said with clumsy joviality. "You beat me upon the 
 purchase of that Westmarsh property. Very shrewd, 
 indeed, Mr. Burnit ; very like your father. I suppose 
 that now, if I wanted to buy it from you, I'd have to 
 pay you a pretty advance." And he rubbed his hands 
 as if to invite the opening of negotiations. 
 
 "It is not for sale," said Bobby, stiffening ; "but I 
 95
 
 96 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 might consider a proposition to buy your eight acres." 
 He offered this suggestion with reluctance, for he had 
 no mind to enter transactions of any sort with Silas 
 Trimmer. Still, he recalled to himself with a sudden 
 yielding to duty, business is business, and his father 
 would probably have waved all personal considerations 
 aside at such a point. 
 
 "Mine is for sale," offered Silas, a trifle too eagerly, 
 Bobby thought. 
 
 "How much?" he asked. 
 
 "A thousand dollars an acre." 
 
 "I won't pay it," declared Bobby. 
 
 "Well," replied Mr. Trimmer with a deepening of 
 that circular smile which Bobby now felt sure was 
 maliciously sarcastic, "by the time it is drained it 
 will be worth that to any purchaser." 
 
 "Suppose we drain it," suggested Bobby, holding 
 both his temper and his business object remarkably 
 well in hand. "Will you stand your share of the 
 cost?" 
 
 "It strikes me as an entirely unnecessary expense 
 at present," said Silas and smiled again. 
 
 "Then it won't be drained," snapped Bobby. 
 
 Later in the evening he caught Silas laughing at 
 him, his shoulders heaving and every yellow fang 
 protruding. The next morning, keeping earlier hours 
 than ever before in his life, Bobby was waiting out-
 
 r AGNES DELIVERS A NOTE 97 
 
 side Jimmy Platt's door when that gentleman started 
 to work. 
 
 "The first thing you do," he directed, still with a 
 memory of that aggravating laugh, "I want you to 
 build a cement wall straight across the north end of 
 my Westmarsh property." 
 
 Mr. Platt smiled and shook his head. 
 
 "Evidently you can not buy that north eight acres, 
 and don't intend to drain it," he commented, stroking 
 sagely the sparse beginning of those slow professional 
 whiskers. "It's your affair, of course, Mr. Burnit, 
 but I am quite sure that spite work in engineering can 
 not be made to pay." 
 
 "Nevertheless," insisted Bobby, "we'll build that 
 wall." 
 
 The previous afternoon Jimmy Platt had made a 
 scale drawing of the property from city surveys, and 
 now the two went over it carefully, discussing it in 
 various phases for fully an hour, proving estimates 
 of cost and general feasibility. At the conclusion of 
 that time Bobby, well pleased with his own practical 
 manner of looking into things, telephoned to Johnson 
 and asked for Applerod. Mr. Applerod had not yet 
 arrived. 
 
 "Very well," said Bobby, "when he comes have him 
 step out and secure suitable offices for us," and this 
 detail despatched he went out with his engineer to
 
 98 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 make a circuit of the property and study its drainage 
 possibilities. 
 
 From profiles that Platt had made they found the 
 swamp at its upper point to be much lower than the 
 level of the river, which ran beyond low hills nearly 
 a mile away ; but the river made a detour, including a 
 considerable fall, coming back again to within a scant 
 half-mile of the southern end of the tract, where it 
 was much lower than the marsh. Between marsh and 
 river at the south was an immense hill, too steep and 
 rugged for any practical purpose, and this they 
 scaled. 
 
 The west end of the city lay before them crowd- 
 ing close to the river bank, and already its ten- 
 tacles had crept around and over the hills and on past 
 Westmarsh tract. Young Platt looked from river to 
 swamp, his eyes glowing over the possibilities that lay 
 before them. 
 
 "Mr. Burnit," he announced, after a gravity of 
 thought which he strove his best to make take the 
 place of experience, "you ought to be able to buy this 
 hill very cheaply. Just through here we'll construct 
 our drainage channel, and with the excavation fill your 
 marsh. It is one of the neatest opportunities I have 
 ever seen, and I want to congratulate you upon your 
 shrewdness in having picked out such a splendid in- 
 vestment."
 
 AGNES DELIVERS A NOTE 99 
 
 This, Bobby felt, was praise from Caesar, and he 
 was correspondingly elated. 
 
 He did not return to the study until in the after- 
 noon. He found Johnson livid with abhorrence of 
 Applerod's gaudy metamorphosis. That gentleman 
 wore a black frock-coat, a flowered gray waistcoat, 
 pin-striped light trousers, shining new shoes, sported 
 a gold-headed cane, and on the table was the glisten- 
 ing new silk hat which had reposed upon his snow- 
 white curls. His pink face was beaming as he rose 
 to greet his partner. 
 
 "Mr. Burnit," said he, shaking hands with al- 
 most trembling gravity and importance, "this day 
 is the apex of my life, and I'm happy to have the 
 son of my old and revered employer as my part- 
 ner." 
 
 "I hope that it may prove fortunate for both of 
 us," replied Bobby, repressing his smile at the acqui- 
 sition of the "make-up" which Applerod had for years 
 aspired to wear legitimately. 
 
 Johnson, humped over the desk that had once been 
 Bobby's father's, snorted and looked up at the stern 
 portrait of old John Burnit; then he drew from the 
 index-file which he had already plaeed upon the back 
 of that desk a gray-tinted envelope which he handed 
 to Bobby with a silence that was more eloquent than 
 words. It was inscribed:
 
 100 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 To my Son if he is Fool EnougJi to Take up With 
 'Applerod's Swamp Scheme 
 
 Rather impatiently Bobby tore it open, and on the 
 inside he found: 
 
 "When shrewd men persist in passing up an ap- 
 parently cinch proposition, don't even try to find out 
 what's the matter with it. In this six-cylinder age no 
 really good opportunity runs loose for twenty-four 
 hours." 
 
 "If the governor had only arranged to leave me 
 his advice beforehand instead of afterward," Bobby 
 complained to Agnes Elliston that evening, "it might 
 have a chance at me." 
 
 "The blow has fallen," said Agnes with mock seri- 
 ousness ; "but you must remember that you brought 
 it on yourself. You have complained to me of your 
 father's carefully-laid plans for your course in pro- 
 gressive bankruptcy, and he left in my keeping a let- 
 ter for you covering that very point." 
 
 "Not in a gray envelope, I hope," groaned Bobby. 
 
 "In a gray envelope," she replied firmly, going 
 across to her own desk in the library. 
 
 "I had feared," said Bobby dismally, "that sooner 
 or later I should find he had left letters for me in 
 your charge as well as in Johnson's, but I had hoped,
 
 AGNES DELIVERS A NOTE 101 
 
 if that were the case, that at least they would be in 
 pink envelopes." 
 
 She brought to him one of the familiar-looking mis- 
 sives, and Bobby, as he took it, looked speculatively 
 at the big fireplace, in which, as it was early fall, com- 
 fortable-looking real logs were crackling. 
 
 "Don't do it, Bobby," she warned him smiling. 
 "Let's have the fun together," and she sat beside him 
 on the couch, snuggling close. 
 
 The envelope was addressed: 
 
 To My Son Upon his Complaining 1 that His Father's 
 Advice Comes too Late! 
 
 He opened it, and together they read : 
 
 "No boy will believe green apples hurt him until he 
 gets the stomach-ache. Knowing you to be truly my 
 son, I am sure that if I gave you advice beforehand 
 you would not believe it. This way you will." 
 
 Bobby smiled grimly. 
 
 "I remember one painful incident of about the time 
 I put on knickerbockers," he mused. "Father told me 
 to keep away from a rat-trap that he had bought. Of 
 course I caught my hand in it three minutes after- 
 ward. It hurt and I howled, but he only looked at me 
 coldly until at last I asked him to help. He let the
 
 102 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 thing squeeze while he asked if a rat-trap hurt. I 
 admitted that it did. Would I believe him next time? 
 I acknowledged that I would, and he opened the trap. 
 That was all there was to it except the raw place on 
 my hand; but that night he came to my room after 
 I had gone to bed, and lay beside me and cuddled me 
 in his arms until I went to sleep." 
 
 "Bobby," said Agnes seriously, "not one of these 
 letters but proves his aching love for you." 
 
 "I know it," admitted Bobby with again that grim 
 smile. "Which only goes to prove another thing, that 
 I'm in for some of the severest drubbings of my life. 
 I wonder where the clubs are hidden." 
 
 He found one of them late that same night at 
 the Idlers'. Clarence Smythe, Silas Trimmer's son-in- 
 law, drifted in toward the wee small hours in an un- 
 usual condition of hilarity. He had a Vandyke, had 
 Mr. Smythe, and was one who cherished a mad pas- 
 sion for clothes; also, as an utterly impossible 
 "climber," he was as cordially hated as Bobby was 
 liked at the Idlers', where he had crept in "while the 
 window was open," as Nick Allstyne expressed it. 
 Ordinarily he was most prim and pretty of manner, 
 but to-night he was on vinously familiar terms with all 
 the world, and, crowding himself upon Bobby's quiet 
 whist crowd, slapped Bobby joyously on the shoulder. 
 
 "Generous lad, Bobby!" he thickly informed All-
 
 I'm in for some of the severest drubbings of my life
 
 AGNES DELIVERS A NOTE 103 
 
 styne and Winthrop and Starlett. "If you chaps have 
 any property you've wanted to unload for half a life- 
 time, here's the free-handed plunger to buy it." 
 
 "How's that?" Bobby wanted to know, guessing in- 
 stantly at the humiliating truth. 
 
 "That Westmarsh swamp belonged to Trimmer," 
 laughed Mr. Smythe, so bubbling with the hugeness 
 of the joke that he could not keep his secret; "and 
 when Thorne, after pumping your puffy man, told 
 my clever father-in-law you wanted it, he promptly 
 bought it from himself in the name of Miles, Eddy 
 and Company and put up the price to three hundred 
 an acre. Besides taking the property off his shoulders 
 you've given him nearly a ten-thousand-dollar ad- 
 vance for it. Fine business!" 
 
 "Great!" agreed blunt Jack Starlett. "Almost as 
 good a joke as refusing to pay a poker debt because 
 it isn't legal." 
 
 Bobby smiled his thanks for the shot, but inside he 
 was sick. The game they were playing was a parting 
 set-to, for the three others were leaving in the morn- 
 ing for Stanley's hunt, but Bobby was glad when it 
 was over. In the big, lonely house he sat in the study 
 for an hour before he went to bed, looking abstract- 
 edly up at the picture of old John Burnit and worry- 
 ing over this new development. It cut him to the quick, 
 not so much that he had been made a fool of by
 
 104 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT. 
 
 "clever" real-estate men, had been led, imbecile-like, 
 to pay an extra hundred dollars per acre for that 
 swamp land, but that the advantage had gone to Silas 
 Trimmer. 
 
 Moreover, why had Silas put a prohibitive valua- 
 tion upon that north eight acres? Why did he want 
 to keep it? It must be because Silas really expected 
 that his tract would be drained free of charge, and 
 that he would thus have the triumph of selling it for 
 an approximate six thousand dollars an acre in the 
 form of building lots. In the face of such a conclu- 
 sion, the thought of the cement wall that he had or- 
 dered built was a great satisfaction. 
 
 It was a remarkably open winter that followed, and 
 outdoor operations could thereby go on uninter- 
 rupted. In the office, the pompous Applerod, in 
 his frock-coat and silk hat, ground Johnson's soul to 
 gall dust ; for he had taken to saying "Mr. Johnson" 
 most formally, and issuing directions with maddening 
 politeness and consideration. r An arrangement had 
 been effected with Applerod, whereby that gentleman, 
 for having suggested the golden opportunity, was to 
 reap the entire benefit of the improvement on his own 
 twenty acres, Bobby financing the whole deal and 
 charging Applerod's share of it against his account. 
 Applerod stood thereby to gain about seventy-six 
 thousand dollars over and above the price he had paid
 
 AGNES DELIVERS A NOTE 105 
 
 for his twenty acres; and, moreover, Bobby had de- 
 cided to call the improved tract the Appier od Addi- 
 tion! When that name began to appear in print, 
 coupled with flaming advertisements of Applerod's 
 devising, there was grave danger of the rosy-cheeked 
 old gentleman's losing every button from every fancy 
 vest in his possession. 
 
 In the meantime, thoroughly in love with the vast 
 enterprise which he had projected, Bobby spent his 
 time outdoors, fascinated, unable to find any peace 
 elsewhere than upon his Titanic labor. His evenings 
 he spent in such social affairs as he could not avoid; 
 with Agnes Elliston ; with Biff Bates ; in an occa- 
 sional game of billiards at the Idlers' ; but his days, 
 from early morning until the evening whistle, he spent 
 amid the clang of pick and shovel, the rattling of the 
 trams, the creaking of the crane. It was an absorbing 
 thing to see that enormous groove cut down through 
 the big hill, and to watch the growth of the great 
 mounds which grew up out of the marsh. The ditch 
 that should drain off all this murky water was, of 
 course, the first thing to be achieved, and, from the 
 base of the hill through which it was to be cut, the 
 engineer ran a tram bridge straight across the swamp 
 to the new retaining wall ; and from this, with the aid 
 of a huge, long-armed crane which lifted cars bodily 
 from the track, the soil was dumped on either side as
 
 106 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 it was removed from the cut. By the latter part of 
 December the ditch had been completed and connected 
 with the special sewer which, by permission of the 
 city, had been built to carry the overflow to the river, 
 and, the open weather still holding, the stagnant pool 
 which had been a blot upon the landscape for untold 
 ages began to flow sluggishly away, displaced by the 
 earth from the disappearing hill. 
 
 The city papers were teeming now with the vast 
 energy and public-spirited enterprise of young Rob- 
 ert Burnit and Oliver P. Applerod, and there were 
 many indications that the enterprise was to be a most 
 successful one. Even before they were ready to re- 
 ceive them, applications were daily made for reserva- 
 tions in the new district, and individual home-seekers 
 began to take Sunday trips out to where the big un- 
 dertaking was in progress. 
 
 "You sure have got 'em going, Bobby," confessed 
 the finally-convinced Biff Bates after a visit of in- 
 spection. "Here's where you put the hornet on one 
 Silas Tight-Wad Trimmer all right, all right. But 
 the bones don't roll right that the side bet don't go 
 for Johnson instead of Applegoat. He's a shine, for 
 me. I think he's all to the canary color inside, but 
 this man Johnson's some man if he only had a shell 
 to put it in. Me for him !" 
 
 The unexpressed friendship that had sprung up
 
 AGNES DELIVERS A NOTE 107 
 
 between the taciturn bookkeeper and the loquacious 
 ex-pugilist was both a puzzle and a delight to Bobby, 
 and it was one of his great joys to see them together, 
 they not knowing why they liked such companionship, 
 not having a single topic of conversation in common, 
 but unconsciously enjoying that vague, sympathetic 
 man-soul they found in each other.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 AGNES AND BOBBY DISCERN DIAMOND-STUDDED SPURS 
 FOR THE LATTER 
 
 ABOUT the first of February the filling and 
 grading were finished and the construction 
 of the streets began, and the middle of 
 March saw the final disappearance of everything, ex- 
 cept that dark, eight-acre spot of Silas Trimmer's, 
 which might remind one of the tract once known as 
 the Westmarsh. In its place lay a broad, yellow 
 checker-board, formed by intersecting streets of as- 
 phalt edged with cement pavements, and in the center, 
 at the crossing of broad Burnit and Applerod 
 Avenues, there arose, over a spot where once frogs 
 had croaked and mosquitoes clustered in crowds, a 
 pretty club-house, which was later to be donated to 
 the suburb; and a great satisfaction fell upon the 
 soul of Bobby Burnit like a benediction. 
 
 Also one Oliver P. Applerod added two full inches 
 to his strut. He seldom came out to the scene of actual 
 operations, for there was none there except workmen 
 108
 
 DIAMOND-STUDDED SPURS 109 
 
 to see his frock-coat and silk hat; but occasionally, 
 from a sense of duty inextricably mingled with self- 
 assertiveness, he paid a visit of inspection, and upon 
 one of these his eyes were confronted by a huge new 
 board sign, visible for half a mile, that overlooked 
 the 'Applerod [Addition from the hills to the north. 
 It bore but two words : "Trimmer's Addition." 'Ap- 
 plerod, holding his broadcloth tight about him to keep 
 it from yellow contamination as a car rumbled by, 
 looked and wiped his glasses and looked again, then, 
 highly excited, he called Bobby to him. 
 
 "Why didn't you tell me of this?" He demanded, 
 pointing to the sign. 
 
 Bobby, happy in sweater and high boots and liH- 
 eral decorations of clay, only laughed. 
 
 "The sign went up only yesterday," he stated. 
 
 "But it is competition. Unfair competition ! He is 
 stealing our thunder," protested Applerod. 
 
 "He has a perfect right to lay out a subdivision if 
 he wants," said Bobby. "But don't worry, Applerod. 
 I've been over there and the thing is a joke. The tract 
 is one-fourth the size of ours, it is uphill and down- 
 hill, only a little grading is being done, streets are 
 cut through but not paved, and a few cheap board 
 sidewalks are being put down. He's had to pay a lot 
 more for his land than we have, and can not sell his 
 lots any cheaper."
 
 110 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "There's no telling what Silas Trimmer will do," 
 said Applerod, shaking his head. 
 
 "Nonsense," said Bobby; "there is no chance that 
 people will pass by our lots and buy one of his." 
 
 Applerod walked away unconvinced. Had it been 
 any one else than Silas Trimmer who had set up this 
 opposition he would not have minded so much, but 
 Applerod had come to have a mighty fear of John 
 Burnit's ancient enemy, and presently he came back 
 to Bobby more panic-stricken than ever. 
 
 "I'm going to sell my interest in the Applerod Ad- 
 dition the minute I find a buyer," he declared, "and 
 I'd advise you to do the same." 
 
 "Don't be foolish," counseled Bobby, frowning. 
 "You carit lose." 
 
 "But man!" quavered Applerod. "I have four 
 thousand dollars of my own cash, all I've been able 
 to scrape together in a lifetime, tied up in this thing, 
 and I mustn't lose !" 
 
 Bobby regarded his father's old confidential clerk 
 more in sorrow than in anger. He was not used to 
 dealing with men of any age so utterly lacking in 
 gameness. 
 
 "Four thousand," he repeated, then he looked across 
 his big checker-board. "I'll give you ten thousand 
 for it right now." 
 
 "What !" objected Applerod, aghast. "Why, Burn-
 
 DIAMOND-STUDDED SPURS 111 
 
 it, the work is nearly done and I have already in sight 
 seventy-six thousand dollars of clear profit over my 
 investment." 
 
 Bobby did not remind Applerod that his four thou- 
 sand dollars represented only a trifling part of the 
 investment required to yield this seventy-six thousand 
 dollars' profit. Yet, after all, there was no flaw in 
 Applerod's commercial reasoning. 
 
 "I didn't expect you to accept it," replied Bobby. 
 "If you were determined to get out, however, you've 
 had an offer of six thousand profit, with no risk." 
 
 "I'd be crazy," declared Applerod. "I can get a 
 better price than that." 
 
 Bobby was thoughtful for an hour after Applerod 
 had left him ; then he hurried into the club-house and 
 telephoned to Chalmers. This was in the forenoon. 
 In the afternoon Applerod was served with an in- 
 junction based upon an indivisibility of interest, re- 
 straining him from disposing of his share ; and in his 
 anger he let it slip out that he had already been try- 
 ing to open negotiations with Trimmer ! 
 
 "Honestly, it hurts!" said Bobby wearily, telling 
 of the incident to Agnes that night. "I didn't know 
 there were so many unsportsmanlike people." 
 
 "I think that is precisely what your father wanted 
 you to find out," she observed. 
 
 "I don't want to know it," protested Bobby. "I'd
 
 112 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 stay much happier to believe that everybody in the 
 world was of the right sort." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "No, Bobby," she said gently; "you have to know 
 that there is the other kind, in order properly to ap- 
 preciate truth and honor and loyalty." 
 
 "I could almost believe I was in a Sunday-school 
 class," grinned Bobby. "No wonder it's snowing." 
 
 Agnes looked out of the window with a cry of de- 
 light. Those floating flakes were the very first snow 
 of the season ; but they were by no means the last. 
 The winter, delayed, but apparently all the more vio- 
 lent for that very reason, burst suddenly upon the 
 city, stopping the finishing touches on both suburban 
 additions. Came rain and sleet and snow, and rain 
 and sleet and snow again, then biting cold that sank 
 deep into the ground and sealed it as if with a crust 
 of iron. March, that had come in like a lamb, went 
 out like a lion, and the lion raged through April and 
 into May. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the 
 belated winter passed away and the warm sun beat 
 down upon the snow-clad hills and swept them clean. 
 It penetrated into the valleys and turned them into 
 rivulets, thousands of which poured into the river and 
 swelled its banks brimming full. The streets of the 
 Applerod Addition were quickly washed with their 
 own white covering and dried, and immediately with
 
 DIAMOND-STUDDED SPURS 113 
 
 this break-up began the great advertising campaign. 
 The papers flamed with full-page and half -page an- 
 nouncements of the wonderful home-making oppor- 
 tunity ; circulars were mailed to possible home-buyers 
 by the hundred thousand ; every street-car told of the 
 bargain on striking cards ; immense electric signs 
 blazoned the project by night; sixteen-sheet posters 
 were spread upon all the bill-boards, and every de- 
 vice known to expert advertising was requisitioned. 
 Not one soul within the city or within a radius of fifty 
 miles but had kept constantly before him the duty he 
 owed to himself to purchase a lot in the marvelous 
 Applerod Addition ; and now indeed Oliver P. Apple- 
 rod, reassured once more, began to reap the fruit of 
 his life's ambitions as prospective buyers thronged 
 to look at his, frock-coat and silk hat. 
 
 June the first was set for the date of the "grand 
 opening," and though it was not to be a month of 
 roses, still the earth looked bright and gay as the time 
 approached, and Bobby Burnit took Agnes out to 
 view his coming triumph. This was upon a bright day 
 toward the end of May, when those yellow squares' 
 were tempered to a golden green by the tender young 
 grass that had been sown at the completion of the 
 grading. She had made frequent visits with him 
 through the winter, and now she gloried with him. 
 
 "It looks fine, Bobby," she confessed with glowing
 
 114 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 eyes. "Fine ! It really seems as if you had won your 
 spurs." 
 
 "Diamond-studded ones!" he exulted. "Why, 
 Agnes, the office is besieged with requests for allot- 
 ments. In spite of the fact that we have over eleven 
 hundred lots for sale at an average price of six hun- 
 dred dollars, we're not going to have enough to go 
 around. The receipts will be fully seven hundred thou- 
 sand dollars, and our complete disbursements, by the 
 time we have sold out, will not amount to over two 
 hundred and twenty-five thousand. Of course, I don't 
 know I haven't asked, and you wouldn't tell me if I 
 did just by what promises you are bound, but when 
 I close up this deal you're going to marry me ! That's 
 flat!" 
 
 "You mustn't be too sure of anything in this world, 
 Bobby," she warned him, but she turned upon him a 
 smile that made her words but idle breath.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 BOBBY DISCOVEES AN ENEMY GREATER THAN SILAS 
 TRIMMER 
 
 ONE circumstance only had occurred to give 
 Bobby any anxiety. With the beginning of 
 the thaw the water in Silas Trimmer's eight 
 acres had begun slowly to rise, and he saw with some 
 dismay that by far the larger part of the great nat- 
 ural basin from which the surface water had been 
 supplied to this swamp sloped from the northern end. 
 Not having that expanse of one hundred and twenty 
 acres to spread over, it might overflow, and in con- 
 siderable trepidation he sought Jimmy Platt. That 
 happy young gentleman only smiled. 
 
 "I calculated upon that," he informed Bobby, "and 
 built your retaining wall two feet higher than the 
 normal spring level for that very reason. It will carry 
 all the water than can shed down from those hills." 
 
 Relieved, Bobby went ahead with the preparations 
 for turning the Applerod Addition into money, and 
 though he saw the water creeping up steadily against 
 115
 
 116 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 the other side of his wall, he displayed no anxiety 
 until it had reached within three or four inches of the 
 top. Then he took Platt out with him to have a look 
 at it. 
 
 "Don't you think you ought to get busy?" he in- 
 quired. "Hadn't we better add another foot to this 
 wall?" 
 
 "Not necessary," said Jimmy, shaking his head 
 positively. "This has been an unusual spring, but the 
 wet weather is all over now, and you can see by the 
 water-mark where the level has gone down a half inch 
 since morning. All the moisture that has been trick- 
 ling down here during the past week has been from 
 the thawing out of the frozen hillsides, but those 
 slopes are almost dust dry now." 
 
 "Suppose it should rain again?" insisted Bobby, 
 still worried. 
 
 "It couldn't rain hard enough to fill up these four 
 inches," declared Platt with decision. "Look here, Mr. 
 Burnit, I'd worry myself if there was any cause what- 
 ever. Do you suppose I'd want anything to happen 
 to my biggest and best job so close to my wedding- 
 day?" 
 
 "So you've set the time," said Bobby, witH eager 
 pleasure. He had met Platt's "best girl" and her 
 mother out at the Addition, and liked her, as he did 
 earnest young Platt.
 
 BOBBY DISCOVERS AN ENEMY 117 
 
 "June the first," replied Jimmy exultantly. "The 
 date of your opening in the evening." 
 
 "Don't forget to send me an invitation." 
 v "Will you come ?" said Platt. He had wanted to ask 
 Bobby before, but had not been quite sure that he 
 ought. 
 
 "Come!" replied Bobby. "Indeed I shall unless I 
 happen to have a wedding of my own on that date." 
 
 Bobby went away satisfied once more, and quite 
 willing to give up the additional foot of wall. The 
 work would entail considerable cost, and expense now 
 was much more of an item than it had been a few 
 months previously. Already he had spent upon this 
 project over two hundred and ten thousand dollars; 
 ten thousand he had given to Biff Bates ; ten thousand 
 he had used personally, so there was but an insignifi- 
 cant portion left of his two hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars. Their "grand opening" would eat up 
 another tidy little sum, for it was to be an expensive 
 affair. The liberal advertising that had already ap- 
 peared was augmented as the great day approached, 
 a brass band had been engaged, a magnificent lunch, 
 sufficient to feed an army, had been arranged for, and 
 every available 'bus and carry-all and picnic wagon 
 in the city had been secured to transport all comers, 
 free of charge, from the end of the car line to the new 
 Addition. The price of vehicles was high, however,
 
 118 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 for Silas Trimmer had already engaged quite a num- 
 ber of them to run between the Applerod Addition 
 and his own. During the week preceding June first, 
 there had appeared, in the local papers, advertise- 
 ments of about one-fourth the size that Bobby was 
 using, calling attention to the opening of the Trim- 
 mer Addition, which was to be upon the same date. 
 
 On the evening of May twenty-ninth, Bobby found 
 Silas pacing the top of the retaining wall which held 
 in his swamp, and waited for the spider- like figure to 
 come across and join him. 
 
 "Too bad you didn't come in with me, or sell me 
 your property at a reasonable figure," said Bobby 
 affably, willing, in spite of his recent bitter experi- 
 ence, to meet his competitor upon the same friendly 
 grounds that he would a crack polo antagonist on the 
 eve of contest. "It's a shame that this could not all 
 have been improved at one time." 
 
 "I'd just as lief have my part of it the way it is," 
 said Silas. "It's no good now, but it's as good as 
 yours," and he climbed into his buggy and drove 
 away laughing, leaving Bobby strangely dissatisfied 
 and doubtful over that strange remark. 
 
 While he was still trying to unravel it, he noted 
 that the water in Silas' pond, which but a day or so 
 previously had been down to fully nine inches from 
 the top, was now climbing rapidly upward again ; and
 
 BOBBY DISCOVERS AN ENEMY 119 
 
 there had been no rain for more than two weeks ! The 
 thing was inexplicable. He was still puzzling over 
 this as he drove down the road and turned in at broad 
 Burnit Avenue toward the club-house. The asphalt 
 and the pavements were bone dry and as clean as a 
 ball-room floor, and it seemed to him that the young 
 grass was growing greener and higher here than any- 
 where. 
 
 Suddenly he ordered his chauffeur to stop the ma- 
 chine. He had just passed a lot where, amid the tufts 
 of green, his eye had caught the glint of water. Run- 
 ning back to it he saw that the center of that lot was 
 covered by a small pool scarcely half an inch deep, 
 through which the grass was growing dankly. This, 
 too, was queer, for the hot sun and strong breeze of 
 the past few days should have dried up every vestige 
 of moisture. He walked along the sidewalk, studying 
 each of the lots in turn. Here and there he discovered 
 other small pools, and every lot bore the appearance 
 of having just been freshly and too liberally watered. 
 He stepped from the pavement upon the earth, and 
 to his surprise his foot sank into it to the depth of 
 an inch or more. For a while he was deeply worried, 
 but presently it flashed upon him that all this soil had 
 been dumped into the marsh, displacing the water, 
 and that in this process it had naturally become 
 soaked through and through. Of course it would take
 
 120 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 a long time to dry out and it would be all the better 
 for its moisture. The rate at which grass was grow- 
 ing was proof enough of that. 
 
 On the next day, kept busy by the preparations for 
 the big opening, Bobby did not get out to the Apple- 
 rod Addition until evening again. As he neared it he 
 met Silas Trimmer coming back in his buck-board, 
 that false circle around his mouth very much in evi- 
 dence. 
 
 "You ought to have had your opening yesterday. 
 I'd have been tempted to buy a lot myself then," 
 shouted Silas as he passed, and Bobby was sure that 
 the tone was a mocking one. 
 
 Consumed with anxiety, he hurried on to see how 
 Silas' swamp stood. Aghast, he found the level of the 
 water a full inch higher than any point that it had 
 ever before reached. Connecting this condition 
 vaguely with that other phenomenon that he had 
 noted, he whirled his runabout and ran back into 
 Burnit Avenue. In twenty-four hours a remarkable 
 change had been wrought. There were pools every- 
 where. The lot where he had first noticed it was now 
 entirely covered with water, with barely the tips of 
 the grass showing through. Frightened, he drove over 
 the entire Addition, up one street and down another. 
 In many places the lots were flooded. One entire block 
 had become no more nor less than a pond. At other
 
 BOBBY DISCOVERS AN ENEMY 121 
 
 points the water, carrying with it the yellow soil, was 
 flowing over his beautiful clean sidewalks and spread- 
 ing its stain upon his immaculate streets. The dark- 
 ness alone drove him from that inspection, and then 
 it occurred to him to send once more for Jimmy Platt. 
 At the first suburban telephone station he tried for 
 nearly an hour to locate his man, but in vain. Later 
 he tried it from his club, but could not reach him. 
 That night was a sleepless one, and the next morn- 
 ing's daybreak found him speeding out the roadway 
 to the Applerod Addition. 
 
 Early as he was, however, he found young Platt 
 there ahead of him and in despair. He had good 
 cause. The whole north end of the Applerod Addi- 
 tion had turned black, and over the top of Bobby's 
 now grimy cement wall poured a broad, dark sheet of 
 the murky swamp-water which had stained it. The 
 pond of Silas Trimmer had overflowed in spite of all 
 Platt's confident figuring that it could not, and in 
 spite of the fact that dry weather had prevailed for 
 two solid weeks. That was the inexplicable part. 
 Clear weather, and still the entire suburb was becom- 
 ing practically submerged! With solid, dry soil 
 surrounding it, wherever the eye could reach it had 
 become but a morass of mud ! Mud was smeared upon 
 every path and every roadway, and Bobby's automo- 
 bile slipped and slid in the oily, yellow liquid that lay
 
 122 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 sluggishly in every gutter and blotched every rod of 
 his clean asphalt. 
 
 Young Platt's face blanched as he saw Bobby. 
 
 "I've made a miserable botch of it," he confessed, 
 torn with an agony of regret at his failure; "and I 
 can't see yet what I overlooked. I'd no right to tackle 
 a man's job like this !" 
 
 "You !" replied Bobby vehemently. "It was Trim- 
 mer who did this; somehow, someway he did it, and 
 he flaunts it in our faces. Look there!" and he 
 pointed to a huge signboard that had been erected 
 overnight just opposite the entrance to Burnit Ave- 
 nue.- In huge, bold letters, surmounted by a giant 
 hand that pointed the way, it told prospective in- 
 vestors to buy property in the high and dry Trimmer 
 Addition, the words "High and Dry" being twice 
 as large as any other lettering upon the board. 
 
 "It is surely a lot of nerve," admitted Platt, "but 
 it is rank nonsense to say that the man had anything 
 to do with this catastrophe. It would have been im- 
 possible. Let's look this thing over. Drive past the 
 club-house to the extreme west side." 
 
 Once more they traversed the mud of Burnit Ave- 
 nue, and upon the dry, sloping ground the young 
 engineer, cursing his inexperience, alighted and 
 walked along the edge of the property, seeking a so- 
 lution to the mystery. Still perplexed, he ascended
 
 BOBBY DISCOVERS AN ENEMY 123 
 
 the rising ground and looked musingly across at the 
 yet swollen and clay-red river. Suddenly an exclama- 
 tion escaped his lips. 
 
 "There's your enemy," he said to Bobby who had 
 climbed up beside him, and pointed to the river. "The 
 river bank, I am sure, must edge upon a tilted shale 
 formation which dips just below this basin. Prob- 
 ably at all times some of the water from the river 
 seeps down between two sand-separated layers of this 
 formation to find its outlet in the marsh, and it is this 
 water which, through a geological freak, has supplied 
 that swamp for ages. In the spring, however, and 
 in extraordinary flood times, it probably finds a higher 
 and looser stratum, and rushes down here with all the 
 force of a hydraulic stream. This spring it took it 
 a long time to wet thoroughly all our made ground 
 from the bottom upward. The frost, sinking deeper 
 in this loose, wet soil than elsewhere, held it back, 
 too, for a time, but as soon as this was thoroughly 
 out of the ground the river overflow came up like a 
 geyser. 
 
 "Mr. Burnit, your Applerod Addition is ruined, 
 and it can never be saved, unless by some extra- 
 ordinary means. Nature picked out this spot, cen- 
 turies and centuries ago, for a swamp, and she's 
 going to have one here in spite of all that we can do. 
 In five years this basin won't be a thing but black
 
 124 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 water and weeds, with only that club-house as a de- 
 caying monument to your enterprise." 
 
 Bobby controlled himself with an effort. His face 
 was drawn and white ; but part of that was from the 
 anxiety of the past two days, and he took the blow 
 stiff and erect, as a good soldier stands up to be dis- 
 ciplined. His eye roved over the w T ork in which he 
 had taken such pride, and already he could see in 
 fancy the dank weeds growing up, and the croaking 
 frogs diving into the oily surface, and the clouds of 
 mosquitoes hovering over it again. Over the top of 
 his retaining wall still poured the foul water which 
 was to leaven all this, and he gazed upon it with a 
 sharp intake of the breath. 
 
 "And to think that Silas Trimmer must have 
 known all this, and led me to waste a fortune just so 
 that he could reap the benefit of my advertising for 
 his own vulture advantage!" 
 
 That, at first, was the part which hurt more than 
 the overthrow of his plans, more than the loss of his 
 money, more than the failure of his fight to carry out 
 his father's wishes for his success : that any one could 
 play the game so unfairly, that there could be in all 
 the world people so detestable, so unprincipled, so 
 unsportsmanlike! 
 
 Slowly the vanquished pair descended the hill to 
 where the automobile stood upon the solid, level sward,
 
 BOBBY DISCOVERS AN ENEMY 125 
 
 but before they climbed in Bobby shook hands with his 
 engineer. 
 
 "Don't blame yourself too much, old man," lie 
 said. "It wasn't a condition that you could foresee, 
 and I'm mighty sorry if it hurts your reputation." 
 
 "It ought to!" exclaimed Platt with deep self-re- 
 vilement. "I should have investigated. 'I should not 
 have taken anything for granted. I ought to have 
 enough money so that you could sue me for damages 
 and recover all you lost." 
 
 "It couldn't be done," said Bobby miserably. "I've 
 lost so much more than money." 
 
 He did not tell Platt of Agnes, but that was the 
 one thought into which all his failure had finally re- 
 solved. Agnes ! How much longer must he wait for 
 her? They had just passed the club-house when a 
 light buggy turned into Burnit Avenue, driven furi- 
 ously by a white-haired man in a white vest and a 
 high silk hat. 
 
 "I accept your offer!" cried Applerod, as soon as 
 he came within talking distance, his usually ruddy 
 face now livid white. 
 
 "My offer," repeated Bobby wonderingly. 
 
 "Yes; your offer of ten thousand dollars for my 
 share in the Applerod Addition." 
 
 Bobby was forced to laugh. It had needed but 
 this to make the bitter jest of fortune complete.
 
 126 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "You refused that offer the day it was made, Apple- 
 rod !" put in Platt indignantly. "I heard you. Any- 
 how, you dragged Mr. Burnit into this thing !" 
 
 "He's not to blame for that," said Bobby. "But 
 still, I don't think I care to buy any more of this 
 property." And he smiled grimly at the absurdity 
 of it all. 
 
 "I'll sue you for it!" shrieked Applerod, frantic 
 from thwarted self-interest. "You prevented me from 
 selling out at a profit when I had a chance! You 
 bound me hand and foot when I knew that if Silas 
 Trimmer had anything to gain by it we would lose! 
 He knew all the time that this swamp was fed by 
 underground springs. He bragged about it to me 
 this morning as I passed him on the road. He told 
 me last night I'd better come out here this morning." 
 
 "I see," said Bobby coldly, and he reached for his 
 lever. 
 
 "Then you won't hold good to your offer?" gasped 
 the other. 
 
 Pale before, he had turned ashen now, and Bobby 
 looked at him with quick compunction. Applerod, 
 always so chubbily youthful for a man of his years, 
 was grown suddenly old. He seemed to have shrunk 
 inside his clothes, his face to have turned flabby, his 
 eyes to have dimmed. After all, he was an old man, 
 and the little that he had scraped together represented
 
 BOBBY DISCOVERS AN ENEMY 127 
 
 all that he could hope to amass in a none too provi- 
 dent lifetime. This day made him a pauper and there 
 was no chance for a fresh start. Bobby himself was 
 young and strong, and, moreover, his resources were 
 by no means exhausted. 
 
 "I'll tell you what I'll do, Applerod," said he, after 
 a moment of very sober thought. "Your property 
 cost you in the neighborhood of four thousand. In- 
 terest since the time you first began to invest in it 
 would bring it up to a little more than that. I'll give 
 you five thousand." 
 
 "I won't accept it. Yes, I will! yes, I will!" he 
 cried as Bobby impatiently reached again for his 
 lever. 
 
 "Very well," said Bobby, "wait a minute." And 
 tearing a leaf from his memorandum-book he wrote a 
 note to Johnson to see to the transfer of the prop- 
 erty and deliver to Applerod a check for five thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 "That was more than generous; it was foolish," 
 protested Jimmy Platt, as they whirled away. 
 
 "No doubt," admitted Bobby dryly. "But, if I'm 
 forced to be a fool, I might as well have a well-finished 
 job of it."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 AGNES DECIDES THAT SHE WILL WAIT 
 
 APPLEROD, his poise nearly recovered, 
 bounded into the office where Johnson sat 
 stolidly working away, his sense of personal 
 contentedness enhanced by the presence of Biff Bates, 
 who sat idly upon the flat-top desk, dangling his legs 
 and waiting for Bobby. Mr. Applerod paid no at- 
 tention whatever to Mr. Bates, that gentleman being 
 quite beneath his notice, but with vast importance he 
 laid down in front of Mr. Johnson the note which 
 Bobby had given him. 
 
 "Mr. Johnson," he pompously directed, "you will 
 please attend to this little matter as soon as possible." 
 
 "Applerod," said Johnson, glancing at the note 
 and looking up with sudden fire, "does this mean that 
 'you are no longer even partially my employer?" 
 
 "That's it exactly." 
 
 "Then you, Applerod, don't you dare call me Mr. 
 Johnson again!" And he shook a bony fist at his 
 old-time work-fellow. 
 
 128
 
 AGNES DECIDES TO WAIT 129 
 
 Biff Bates nearly fell off the desk, but with rare 
 presence of mind restrained his glee. 
 
 Mr. Applerod, smiling loftily, immediately wielded 
 his bludgeon. 
 
 "We should not quarrel over trifles," he stated 
 commiseratingly. "We are once more companions in 
 misfortune. There is no Applerod Addition. It is a 
 swamp again." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Johnson incredu- 
 lously, but suspending his indignation for the instant. 
 
 "This," said Applerod: "that the entire addition 
 is a hundred-acre mud puddle this morning. You 
 couldn't sell a lot in it to a blind man. Every cent 
 that was invested in it is lost. The whole marsh was 
 fed from underground springs that have come up 
 through it and overflowed the place." 
 
 "Trimmer again," said Biff Bates, and slid off the 
 desk ; then he looked at his watch with a curious specu- 
 lative smile. 
 
 "But if it is all lost," protested Johnson, looking 
 again at the note and pausing in the making out of 
 the check, "how do you come to get this?" 
 
 "He owed it to me," asserted Applerod. "I wanted 
 to sell out when I first found that we were competing 
 with Silas Trimmer, and young Burnit kept me from 
 it by an injunction. He offered me ten thousand 
 dollars for my interest once, but this morning when
 
 130 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 I went to accept that offer he would only give me 
 this five thousand. It's just five thousand dollars that 
 he's robbed 'me of." 
 
 "Robbed!'' shrilled Johnson, jumping from his 
 chair. "Applerod, you weigh a hundred and eighty 
 pounds and I weigh a hundred and thirty-seven, but 
 I can lick you the best day you ever lived; and by 
 thunder and blazes ! if you let fall another remark like 
 that I'll knock your infernal head off !" 
 
 Mr. Johnson had on no coat, but he felt the urgent 
 need to remove something, so he tore off one false 
 sleeve, wadded it up in a little ball and slammed it 
 on the floor with great vigor, tore off the other one, 
 wadded it up and slammed that down. Biff Bates, 
 quivering with joy, rang loudly upon a porcelain 
 electric-light shade with his pencil and called: 
 "Time!" 
 
 There was no employment for a referee, however, 
 for Mr. Applerod, with astonishing agility, sprang 
 to the door and held it half open, ready for a hurried 
 ' exit in case of any other demonstration. It was shock- 
 ing to think that he might be drawn into an undigni- 
 fied altercation and with a mere clerk! Also, it 
 might be dangerous. 
 
 "Nothing doing, chum," said Biff Bates disgustedly 
 to his friend Johnson. "This bunch of mush-ripe 
 bananas ain't even a quitter. He's a never-beginner.
 
 AGNES DECIDES TO WAIT 131 
 
 But you'll do fine, old scout. Come along with me. 
 I got a treat for you." 
 
 Mr. Johnson, breathing scorn that alternately 
 dented and inflated his nostrils, slowly donned his coat 
 and hat without removing his eyes from Applerod, 
 who, as the two approached the door, edged uncer- 
 tainly away from it. 
 
 "I've got to go out, anyhow," said Johnson, ad- 
 dressing his remarks exclusively to Mr. Bates, but 
 his glare exclusively to Mr. Applerod. "I'm going 
 to put this check into the hands of Mr. Chalmers, so 
 Mr. Robert don't get cheated by any yellow-livered 
 snake in the grass!" And he spit out those last vio- 
 lent words with a sudden vehemence which made Mr. 
 Applerod drop his shiny hat. 
 
 When Bobby came into the office a few minutes 
 later he found Applerod, his hat upon his lap, waiting 
 in one of the customers' chairs with stiff solemnity. 
 
 "Why aren't you at your desk, Applerod?" asked 
 Bobby sharply. "You have an immense amount of 
 unopened mail, and some of it may contain checks 
 which will have to be sent back." 
 
 "Mr. Burnit," said Mr. Applerod, rising withf 
 great dignity and throwing back his shoulders, "I 
 consider myself no longer in your employ. I have 
 resigned." 
 
 Bobby looked at him thoughtfully and weighed
 
 132 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 rapidly in his mind a great many things. He re- 
 membered that his father had once said of the two 
 men: "Johnson has a pea-green liver and is a pes- 
 simist, but he is honest. Applerod suffers from too 
 much health and is an optimist, and I presume him 
 to be honest, but I never tested it." Yet his father 
 had seen fit to keep Applerod in his intimate employ 
 all these years, recognizing in him material of value. 
 Moreover, he had advised Bobby to keep both men, 
 and Bobby, to-day more than ever, placed great faith 
 in the wisdom of his father. 
 
 "Mr. Applerod," said he, "I 'dislike to be harsh 
 with you, but if you don't put up your hat and get 
 at that bundle of mail I shall be compelled to consider 
 discharging you. Where's Johnson?" 
 
 "He went out with Mr. Bates, sir." 
 
 When Bobby left, Applerod was industriously 
 sorting the mail on his desk, preparing to open it. 
 
 Bobby let himself into the big new gymnasium 
 and walked back through the deserted hall to the 
 small room that was used for individual training. 
 As he neared the door he could hear the sound of loud 
 voices and the shuffling of feet, and heard the com- 
 manding voice of Biff Bates shout "Break !" 
 
 The door was locked, but through the slide window 
 at the side a strange tableau met his eyes. Stooped 
 and lean Johnson, as chalk-white of face as ever, had
 
 AGNES DECIDES TO WAIT 133 
 
 paunchy and thin-legged Silas Trimmer by the collar, 
 and over Biff Bates' intervening body was trying 
 to rain blows into the center of the circular smile, now, 
 flattened to an oval of distress. 
 
 "Break, Johnson, break !" begged Biff. "Don't put 
 him out till you feed him all he's got coming." There- 
 upon he succeeded in extracting Mr. Trimmer from 
 the grasp of Mr. Johnson and forced the former 
 back upon a chair, where he began to fan him with 
 a towel in most approved fashion. 
 
 "Let me out of this !" gasped Mr. Trimmer. <T11 
 have you arrested for assault and conspiracy." 
 
 "They'll only pinch a corpse, for the cops'll find 
 me tickled to death when they get here," responded 
 Mr. Bates gaily. "Now you're all right. Get up !" 
 
 "Let me out of this, I say !" commanded Mr. Trim- 
 mer frantically. "I'll run you into the penitentiary ! 
 I'll break you up in business ! I'll hire thugs to break 
 every bone in your body !" 
 
 "Is that all?" inquired Biff complacently, and 
 grabbed him as he started to run around the room in' 
 a wild hunt for an outlet. "Stand up here and put 
 up a fight or I'll punch you myself. I've been aching 
 to do it for a year. That's why I got Doc Willets 
 to dope it out to you that you was dyin' for training, 
 and why I kept shifting your hour to when there was 
 nobody here. Go to him, chum!"
 
 134 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Then ensued the strangest sparring match that the 
 grinning and stealthily silent Bobby had ever seen. 
 Johnson, with a true "tiger crouch" which he could 
 not have avoided if he had wished, began dancing 
 around and around the spherical body of Mr. Trim- 
 mer, without science and without precaution, keeping 
 his two arms going like windmills, and occasionally 
 landing a light blow upon some portion of Mr. Trim- 
 mer's unresisting anatomy ; but finally a whirl so 
 vigorous that it sent Johnson spinning upon his 
 own heel, landed squarely beneath the jaw of Silas. 
 That gentleman, with a puffed eye and a bleeding lip 
 and two teeth gone, rose from his feet with the im- 
 pact of the blow, and landed with a grunt in a huge 
 basket of soiled bath-towels. 
 
 "Johnson," called the laughter-shaken voice of 
 Bobby through the window, "I'm ashamed of you!" 
 
 Mr. Johnson looked up happily from his task of 
 wiping away a little trickle of blood from his already 
 swollen nose. 
 
 "Did you see me do it?" he demanded, thrilling 
 with pride. "Mr. Burnit, I I never had so much fun 
 in my life. Never, never! By the way, sir," and 
 even upon that triumphant moment his duty obtruded, 
 "I have a letter for you that I brought away from 
 the office," and through the window he handed one of 
 the inevitable gray envelopes. It was inscribed:
 
 AGNES DECIDES TO WAIT 135 
 
 To My Son, Upon the Failure of Applerod's Swamp 
 Scheme 
 
 "In the midst of pleasure we are in pain," mur- 
 mured Bobby, and tore open the letter. In it he 
 read: 
 
 "My Dear Boy : 
 
 "A man must not only examine a business proposi- 
 tion from all sides, but must also turn it over and 
 look well at the bottom. I never knew what was the 
 matter with that swamp scheme, except Applerod, 
 but I didn't want to know any more. You did. 
 
 "Well, you don't need wisdom. I've put one-half 
 
 your fortune where it will yield you a living income. 
 
 Try to cut at least one eye-tooth with the other half. 
 
 Your trustee is instructed to give you another start. 
 
 "YouR LOVING FATHER." 
 
 His trustee! Once more he must face her with 
 failure; go to her beaten, and accept through her 
 hands the means to gain himself another buffeting. 
 He had not the heart to see her now, but he was not 
 turned altogether coward, for leaving the scene of 
 the late conflict abruptly, all its humor spoiled for 
 him, he telephoned her what had happened and that 
 he would be out in the evening. 
 
 "No, you must come now. I want you," she gently
 
 136 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT. 
 
 insisted, and when he had come to her she went directly 
 to him and put both her hands upon his shoulders. 
 
 "It wasn't fair, Bobby ; it wasn't fair !" she cried. 
 "None of it is fair, and your father had no right to 
 bind me down with promises when you need me so. 
 I'm willing to break them all. Bobby, I'll marry you 
 to-morrow if you say so." 
 
 He drew a long, trembling breath, and then he 
 put his hands gently upon both her cheeks and kissed 
 her on the forehead. 
 
 "Let's don't," he said simply. "I have my own 
 blood up now, and I want to take this other chance. 
 I want to play the game out to the end. You'll wait, 
 won't you?" 
 
 She looked up at him through moist eyes. He was 
 so big and so strong and so good, and already 
 through the past year of earnest purpose there had 
 come firm, new lines upon his face, lines that meant 
 something in the ultimate building of character ; and 
 she recognized that perhaps stern old John Burnit 
 had been right after all. 
 
 "Indeed, I can wait," she whispered. "Proudly, 
 Bobby."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IN WHICH A CHARMING GENTLEMAN OFFERS AN 
 INVESTMENT WITHOUT A FLAW 
 
 IT was pretty, in the succeeding days, to see 
 Agnes poring over advertisements and writing 
 down long lists of suggested enterprises for 
 investigation, enterprises which proved in every case 
 to be in the midst of an already too thickly contested 
 field, or to be hampered by monopoly, or subject to 
 some other vital drawback. There seemed to be a 
 strange dearth of safe and suitable commercial ven- 
 tures, a fact over which Bobby and Agnes together 
 puzzled almost nightly. There was to be no false 
 start this time; no stumbling in the middle of the 
 race ; no third failure. The third time was to be the 
 charm. And yet too much time must not be wasted. 
 They both began to feel rather worried about this. 
 
 Of course, there was a letter, in the familiar gray 
 envelope. It had been handed to Bobby by Johnson 
 upon the day the second check for two hundred and 
 fifty thousand had been paid over by Chalmers upon 
 Agnes' order, and it read: 
 137
 
 138 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 To My Son Robert, 
 Upon His Third Attempt to Make Money 
 
 "The man who has never failed has been either too 
 lucky or too timid to have much tried and tested 
 worth. The man who always fails is too useless to 
 talk about. As you've failed twice you're neither too 
 lucky nor too timid. It remains to be seen if you are 
 too useless. 
 
 "Remember that money isn't the only audible thing 
 in this world ; but it makes more noise than anything 
 else. A vast number of people call money vulgar; 
 but, if you'll notice, this opinion is chiefly held by 
 those who haven't been able to secure any of it. 
 
 "I wouldn't have you sacrifice any decent principle 
 to get it, because that is not necessary ; but go get 
 money of your own, and see what a difference there 
 is between dollars. A dollar you've made is as differ- 
 ent from a dollar that's given to you as your children 
 are from other people's." 
 
 "If only the governor had pointed out some good 
 business for me to go into," complained Bobby as he 
 read this letter over with Agnes. 
 
 She shook her head soberly. She realized, more 
 than he possibly could, as yet, just where Bobby's 
 weaknesses lay. She had worried over them not a 
 little, of late, and she was just as anxious as old 
 John Burnit had been to have him correct those de- 
 fects ; and she, like Bobby's father, was only thankful
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 139 
 
 that they were not defects of manliness, of courage 
 or of moral or mental fiber. They were only defects 
 of training, for which the elder Burnit, as he had 
 himself confessed, was responsible. 
 
 "That isn't what he wanted at all, Bobby," she 
 protested. "The very fact of your two past failures 
 shows just how right he was in making you find out 
 things for yourself. The chief trouble, I am afraid, 
 is that you have been too ready to furnish the money 
 and let others spend it for you." 
 
 "I know," said Bobby. "I have been too willing 
 to take everybody's word, I guess ; but I have always 
 been able to do that in my crowd, and it is rather a 
 dash to me to find that in business you can not do it. 
 However, I have reformed." 
 
 He said this so self-confidently that Agnes laughed. 
 
 "Yes," she admitted, "you are convinced that 
 Silas Trimmer is a thief and a rascal, and you would 
 not take his word for anything. You are convinced 
 that Applerod's judgment is useless and that your 
 own does not amount to much, but I still believe that 
 the next plausible looking and plausible talking man 
 who comes to you can engage you in any business that 
 seems fair on the surface." 
 
 "I deserve what you say," he confessed, but some- 
 what piqued, nevertheless. "However, I don't think 
 you are giving me credit for having learned any les-
 
 140 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 son at all. Why, only to-day you ought to have heard 
 me turning down a proposition to finance a new and 
 improved washing-machine. Sounded very good and 
 feasible, too. The man was a good talker and thor- 
 oughly earnest and honest, I am sure. I really did 
 want to help the fellow start his business, but some- 
 how or other I could not seem to like the idea of 
 washing-machines ; such a sudsy sort of business." 
 
 Agnes laughed the sort of a laugh that always 
 made him want to catch hold of her, but if he had any 
 intentions in that respect they were interfered with 
 just now by Uncle Dan, who strolled into the parlor 
 in his dressing- jacket and with a cigar tilted in the 
 corner of his mouth. 
 
 "How's the Commercial Board of Strategy coming 
 on?" he inquired as he offered Bobby a cigar. 
 
 "Fine!" declared Bobby; "except that it can not 
 think of a strategem." 
 
 "I think you are very selfish not to help us out, 
 Uncle Dan," declared Agnes. "With all your ex- 
 perience 'you ought to be able to suggest something 
 for Bobby to go into that would be a nice business 
 and perfectly safe and make him lots of money with- 
 out requiring too much experience to start with." 
 
 "Young lady," said Uncle Dan severely, "if I knew 
 a business of that kind I'd sell some of the stock of 
 my factory and go into it myself; but I don't. The
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 141 
 
 fact is, there are no business snaps lying around 
 loose. You have to make one, and that takes not just 
 money, but work and brains." 
 
 "I'm perfectly willing to work," declared Bobby. 
 
 "And you don't mean to say that he hasn't brains !" 
 objected Agnes. 
 
 "No-o-o," admitted Uncle Dan. "I am quite sure 
 that Bobby has brains, but they have not been quite 
 a a well, say solidified, yet. You're not allowed 
 to smoke in this parlor, Bobby. Mrs. Elliston wants 
 a quiet home game of whist; sent me to bring you 
 up" 
 
 Secretly, old Dan Elliston was himself puzzling 
 a great deal over a career for Bobby, but up to the 
 moment had not found anything that he thought 
 safe to propose. Not having a good idea he was 
 averse to discussing any project whatsoever, and so, 
 each time that he was consulted upon the subject, he 
 was as evasive as this about it, and Bobby each morn- 
 ing dragged perplexedly into the handsome offices of 
 the defunct Applerod Addition, where Applerod and 
 Johnson were still working a solid eight hours a day 
 to straighten out the affairs of that unfortunate 
 venture. 
 
 Those offices were the dullest quarters Bobby knew, 
 for they contained nothing but the dead ashes of 
 bygone money; but one morning business picked up
 
 142 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 with a jerk. He found a mine investment agent 
 awaiting him when he arrived, and before he was 
 through with this clever conversationalist a man was 
 in to get him to buy a racing stable. Affairs grew 
 still more brisk as the morning wore on. Within the 
 next two hours he had politely but firmly declined to 
 'buy a partnership in a string of bucket shops, to re- 
 finance a defunct irrigation company, to invest in a 
 Florida plantation, to take a tip on copper, and to 
 back an automobile factory which was to enter busi- 
 ness upon some designs of a new engine stolen by a 
 discharged workman. 
 
 "How did all these people find out that I have two 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars to invest?" im- 
 patiently demanded Bobby, after he had refused the 
 allurements of a patent-medicine scheme, the last of 
 that morning's lot. 
 
 There followed a dense silence, in the midst of 
 which old Johnson looked up from the book in which 
 he was entering a long, long list of items on the wrong 
 side of the profit and loss account, and jerked his 
 lean thumb angrily in the direction of Applerod. 
 
 "Ask him," he said. 
 
 Chubby-faced old Applerod, excessively meek of 
 spirit to-day, suffered a moment of embarrassment 
 under the accusing eyes of young Burnit. 
 
 "The newspapers, sir," he admitted, twisting un-
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 143 
 
 comfortably in his swivel chair. "The reporters were 
 here yesterday afternoon with the idea that since you 
 haven't announced any future plans, the failure of 
 our real estate scheme my real estate scheme," he 
 corrected in response to a snort and a glare from 
 Johnson "had left you penniless. Of course I 
 wasn't going to let them go away with that impres- 
 sion, so I told them that you had another two hundred 
 and fifty thousand dollars to invest, with probably 
 more to follow, if necessary." 
 
 "And of course," groaned Bobby, "it is all in print, 
 with ingenious trimmings." 
 
 From a drawer in his desk Johnson quietly drew 
 copies of the morning papers, each one folded care- 
 fully to an article in which, under wide variations of 
 embarrassing head-lines, the facts of Bobby's latest 
 frittering of his father's good money were once more 
 facetitiously, even gleefully, set forth and embel- 
 lished, with added humorous speculations as to how 
 he would probably cremate his new fund. Bobby 
 was about to turn into his own room to absorb his 
 humiliation in secret when Applerod hesitantly 
 stopped him. 
 
 "Another thing, sir," he said. "Mr. Frank L. 
 Sharpe called up early this morning to know when 
 he would find you in, and I took the liberty of telling 
 him that you would very likely be here at ten o'clock."
 
 144 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Bobby frowned slightly at the mention of that 
 name. He knew of Sharpe vaguely as a man whose 
 private life had been so scandalous that society had 
 ceased to shudder at his name it simply refused to 
 hear it ; a man who had even secured advancement by 
 obligingly divorcing his first wife so that the notori- 
 ous Sam Stone could marry her. 
 
 "What did he want?" he asked none too graciously. 
 
 "I don't know, sir," said Applerod; "but he tele- 
 phoned me again just as you were getting rid of this 
 last caller. I told him that you were here and he said 
 that he would be right over." 
 
 Bobby made no reply to this, but went thoughtfully 
 into his room and closed the door after him. In less 
 than five minutes the door opened, and Mr. Applerod, 
 his voice fairly oily with obsequiousness, announced 
 Mr. Frank L. Sharpe! Why, here is a man whose 
 name was in the papers every morning, noon and 
 night! Mr. Sharpe had taken a trip to New York 
 on behalf of the Gas Company ; Mr. Sharpe had re- 
 turned from his trip to New York on behalf of the 
 Gas Company; Mr. Sharpe had entertained at the 
 Hotel Spender; Mr. Sharpe had made a speech; Mr. 
 Sharpe had been interviewed; Mr. Sharpe had been 
 indisposed for half a day ! 
 
 Quite prepossessing of appearance was Mr. 
 Sharpe; a tall, rather slight gentleman, whose fea-
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 145 
 
 tures no one ever analyzed because the eyes of the 
 observer stopped, fascinated, at his mustache. That 
 wonderful adornment was wohderfully luxuriant, 
 gray and curly, pretty to an extreme, and kept most 
 fastidiously trimmed, and it lifted when he smiled to 
 display a most engaging row of white, even teeth. 
 Centered upon this magnificent combination the gaze 
 never roved to the animal nose, to the lobeless ears, 
 to the watery blue eyes half obscured by the lower 
 lids. He was immaculately, though a shade too youth- 
 fully, dressed in a gray frock suit, with pearl-gray 
 spats upon his shoes, and he was most charmed to see 
 young Mr. Burnit. 
 
 "You have a very neat little suite of offices here, 
 Mr. Burnit," he commented, seating himself grace- 
 fully and depositing his gray hat, his gray cane and 
 his gray gloves carefully to one side of him upon 
 Bobby's desk. 
 
 "I'm afraid they are a little too nice for practical 
 purposes," Bobby confessed. "I have found that 
 business isn't a parlor game." 
 
 "Precisely what I came to see you about," said Mr. 
 Sharpe. "I understand you have been a trifle unfor- 
 tunate, but that is because you did not go into the 
 regular channels. An established and paying cor- 
 poration is the only worth-while proposition, and if 
 you have not yet settled upon an investment I would
 
 146 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 like to suggest that you become interested in our local 
 Brightlight Electric Company." 
 
 "I thought there was no gas or electric stock for 
 sale," said Bobby slowly, clinging still to a vague im- 
 'pression that he had gained five or six years before. 
 
 "Not to the public," replied Mr. Sharpe, smiling, 
 "and there would not have been privately except for 
 the necessity of a reorganization. The Brightlight 
 needs more capital for expansion, and I have too 
 many other interests, even aside from the Consumers' 
 Electric Light and Power and the United Gas and 
 Fuel Companies, to spare the money myself and the 
 Brightlight is too good to let the general public in 
 on." He smiled again, quite meaningly this time. 
 "This is quite confidential, of course," he added. 
 
 Bobby bowed his acknowledgment of the confidence 
 which had been reposed in him, and generously began 
 at once to reconstruct his impressions of the impossi- 
 ble Mr. Sharpe. You couldn't believe all you heard, 
 you know. 
 
 "The Brightlight," went on Mr. Sharpe, "Is at 
 present capitalized for two hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars, and is a good ten-per-cent.-dividend- 
 paying stock at the present moment ; but its business 
 is not growing, and I propose to take in sufficient cap- 
 ital to raise the Brightlight to a half-million-dollar 
 corporation, clear off its indebtedness and project
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 147 
 
 certain extensions. I understand that you have the 
 necessary amount, and here is the proposition I offer 
 you. Brightlight stock is now quoted at a hundred 
 and seventy-two. We will double its present capi- 
 talization, and you may take up the extra two hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand dollars' worth of its stock at 
 par, or about three-fifths of its actual value. That 
 is a bargain to be snapped at, Mr. Burnit." 
 
 Did Bobby Burnit snap at this proposition? He 
 did not. Bobby had learned caution through his two 
 bitter failures, and of caution is born wisdom. 
 
 "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars' worth of 
 stock in a five-hundred-thousand-dollar corporation 
 won't do for me," he declared with a firmness that was 
 pleasant to his own ears. "I don't care to go into 
 any proposition in which I have not the controlling 
 interest." 
 
 Mr. Sharpe, remembering the details of Bobby's 
 Trimmer and Company experiment, hastily turned 
 his imminent smile of amusement into a merely en- 
 gaging one. 
 
 "I don't blame you, Mr. Burnit," said he ; "but to 
 show you that I am more willing to trust you than 
 you are to trust me, if you care to go into this thing 
 I'll agree to sell you from one to ten shares of my 
 individual stock at its present market value, of
 
 148 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "That's very good of you," agreed Bobby, sud- 
 denly ashamed of his ungenerous stand in the face 
 of this sportsmanlike attitude. "But really I've had 
 cause for timidity." 
 
 "Caution is not cowardice," said Mr. Sharpe in a 
 tone which conveyed a world of friendly approbation. 
 "This matter must be taken up very soon, however, 
 and I can not allow you more than a week to investi- 
 gate. I'd be pleased to receive your legal and busi- 
 ness advisers at any time you may nominate, and to 
 give them any advantage you may wish." 
 
 "I'll investigate it at least, and I thank you for 
 giving me the opportunity," said Bobby, really very 
 contrite that he had been doing Sharpe such a mental 
 injustice all these years. "By the way," he suddenly 
 added, "has Silas Trimmer anything whatever to do 
 with this proposition?" 
 
 Mr. Sharpe smiled. 
 
 "Mr. Trimmer does not own one share of stock in 
 the Brightlight Electric Company, nor will he own 
 it," he answered. 
 
 "In that case," said Bobby, "I am satisfied to con- 
 sider your offer without fear of heart-disease." 
 ' The departing caller met an incoming one in the 
 outer office, and Agnes, sweeping into Bobby's room, 
 breathlessly gasped: 
 
 "That was Frank Sharpe !"
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 149 
 
 "The same," admitted Bobby, smiling down at her 
 and taking both her hands. 
 
 "I never saw him so closely," she declared. "Re- 
 ally, he's quite distinguished-looking." 
 
 "As long as he avoids a close shave," supplemented 
 Bobby. "But what brings you into the the busy 
 marts of trade so early in the morning?" 
 
 "My trusteeship," she answered him loftily, pro- 
 ducing some documents from her hand-bag. "And 
 I'm in a hurry. Sign them papers." 
 
 "Them there papers," he kindly corrected, and 
 seating himself at his desk he examined the minor 
 transfers perfunctorily and signed them. 
 
 "I'm afraid I'm a failure as a trustee," she told 
 him. "I ought to have had more power. J ought to 
 have been authorized to keep you out of bad company. 
 How came Mr. Sharpe to call on you, for instance?" 
 
 "To make my fortune," he gravely assured her. 
 "Mr. Sharpe wants me to go into the Brightlight 
 Electric Company with him." 
 
 "I can imagine your courteous adroitness in put- 
 ting the man back in his place," she laughed. "How 
 preposterous! Why, he's utterly impossible!" 
 
 "Ye-e-es?" questioned Bobby. "But you know, 
 Agnes, this isn't a pink-tea affair. It's business, 
 which is at the other end of the world." 
 
 "You're not honestly defending him, Bobby?" she
 
 150 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 protested incredulously. "Why, I do believe you are 
 considering the man seriously!" 
 
 "Why not?" he persisted, arguing against his own 
 /convictions as much as against hers. "We want me 
 to make some money, don't we? To make a success 
 that will let me marry you?" 
 
 "I'm not to say so, remember," she reminded him. 
 
 "Father put no lock on my tongue, though," he 
 reminded her in turn; "so I'll just lay down the dic- 
 tum that as soon as I succeed in any one business 
 deal I'm going to marry you, and I don't care whether 
 the commodity I handle is electricity or potatoes." 
 
 "But Frank L. Sharpe!" she exclaimed, with 
 shocked remembrance of certain whispered stories she 
 had heard. 
 
 "Really, I don't see where he enters into it," per- 
 sisted Bobby. "The Brightlight Electric Company 
 is a stock corporation, in which Mr. Sharpe happens 
 to own some shares ; that is all." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "I can't seem to like it," she told him, and rose 
 to go. 
 
 The door opened, and Johnson, with much solem- 
 nity, though in his eyes there lurked a twinkle, 
 brought in a card which, with much stiff ceremony, 
 he handed to Bobby. 
 
 "Professor Henry H. Bates," read Bobby in some
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 151 
 
 perplexity, then suddenly his brow cleared and he 
 laughed uproariously. "Come right in, Biff," he 
 called. 
 
 In response to this invitation there entered upon 
 Agnes' vision a short, chunky, broad-shouldered 
 young man in a checked green suit and red tie, who, 
 finding himself suddenly confronted by a dazzlingly 
 beautiful young lady, froze instantly into speechless 
 awkwardness. 
 
 "This is my friend and partner, Mr. Biff Mr. 
 Henry H. Bates Miss Elliston," introduced Bobby, 
 smiling. 
 
 Agnes held out her hand, which suddenly seemed to 
 dwindle in size as it was clasped by the huge palm of 
 Mr. Bates. 
 
 "I have heard so much of you from Mr. Burnit, and 
 always nice things," she said, smiling at him so 
 frankly that Mr. Bates, though his face flushed red, 
 instantly thawed. 
 
 "Bobby's right there with the boost," commented 
 Mr. Bates, and then, not being quite satisfied with! 
 that form of speech, he huskily corrected it to: 
 "Burnit's always handing out those pleasant words." 
 This form of expression seeming also to be somewhat 
 lacking in polish, he relapsed into more redness, and 
 wiped the strangely moist palms of his hands upon the 
 sides of his coat.
 
 152 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "He doesn't talk about any but pleasant people," 
 Agnes assured him. 
 
 After she had gone Mr. Bates looked dazedly at 
 the door through which she had passed out, then 
 turned to Bobby. 
 
 "Carries a full line of that conversation," he com- 
 mented, "but I like to fall for it. And say ! I'll bet 
 she's game all right; the kind that would stick to a 
 guy when he was broke, in jail and had the smallpox. 
 That's your steady, ain't it, Bobby?" 
 
 Coming from any one else this query might have 
 seemed a trifle blunt, but Bobby understood precisely 
 how Mr. Bates meant it, and was gratified. 
 
 "She's the real girl," he admitted. 
 
 "I'm for her," stoutly asserted Mr. Bates, as he 
 extracted a huge wad of crumpled bills from his 
 trousers pocket. "Any old time she wants anybody 
 strangled or stabbed and you ain't handy, she can 
 call on your friend Biff. Here's your split of last 
 month's pickings at the gym. One hundred and 
 eighty-one large, juicy simoleons; count 'em, one 
 hundred and eighty-one!" And he threw the money 
 on the desk. 
 
 ''Everything paid?" asked Bobby. 
 
 "Here's the receipts," and from inside his vest Mr. 
 Bates produced them. "Ground rent, light, heat, pay- 
 roll, advertising, my own little old weekly envelope
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 153 
 
 and everything ; and I got one-eighty-one in my other 
 kick for my share." 
 
 "Very well," said Bobby ; "you just put this money 
 of mine into a fund to buy further equipments when 
 we need them." 
 
 "Nit and nix; also no!" declared Mr. Bates em- 
 phatically. "This time the bet goes as she lays. You 
 take a real money drag-down from now on." 
 
 "Mr. Johnson," called Bobby through the open 
 door, "please take charge of this one hundred and 
 eighty-one Collars, an d open a separate account for 
 my investment in the Bates Athletic Hall. It might 
 be, Biff," he continued, turning to Mr. Bates, "that 
 yours would turn out to be the only safe business ven- 
 ture I ever made." 
 
 "It ain't no millionaire stunt, but it sure does pay 
 a steady diwy," Mr. Bates assured him. "I see a 
 man outside scraping the real-estate sign off the 
 door. Is he going to paint a new one ?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Bobby, frowning. "I sfrall, 
 of course, get into something very shortly, but I've 
 not settled on anything as yet. The best thing that 
 has turned up so far is an interest in the Brightlight 
 Electric Company offered me to-day by Frank L. 
 Sharpe." 
 
 "What!" shrieked Biff in a high falsetto, and 
 slapped himself smartly on the wrist. "Has he been
 
 154 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 here? I thought it seemed kind of close. Give me a 
 cigarette till I fumigate." 
 
 "What's the matter with the Brightlight Electric 
 Company?" demanded Bobby. 
 
 "Nothing. It's a cinch so far as I know. But 
 Sharpe ! Why, say, Bobby, all the words I'd want to 
 'use to tell you about him have been left out of the dic- 
 tionary so they could send it through the mails." 
 
 Bobby frowned. The certain method to have him 
 make allowances for a man was to attack that man. 
 When he arrived at the Idlers' Club at noon, how- 
 ever, he was given another opportunity for Christian 
 charity. Nick Allstyne and Payne Winthrop and 
 Stanley Rogers were discussing something with great 
 indignation when he joined them, and Nick drew him 
 over to the bulletin board, where was displayed the 
 application of Frank L. Sharpe, proposed by Clar- 
 ence Smythe, Silas Trimmer's son-in-law, and sec- 
 onded by another undesirable who had twice been 
 posted for non-payment of dues. 
 
 "There is only one thing about this that commends 
 itself to me, and that is the immaculate and colossal 
 nerve of the proceeding," declared Nick indignantly. 
 "The next thing you know somebody will propose 
 Sam Stone." 
 
 At this they all laughed. The Idlers' Club was 
 the one institution that stood in no awe of the notori-
 
 A FLAWLESS INVESTMENT 155 
 
 ous "boss" of the city and of the state; a man who 
 had never held an office, but who, until the past two 
 years, had controlled all offices ; whose methods were 
 openly dishonest; who held underground control of, 
 every public utility and a score of private enter- 
 prises. The idea of Stone as an applicant for mem- 
 bership in the Idlers' Club was a good joke, but the 
 actual application of Sharpe was too serious for 
 jesting. Nevertheless, all this turmoil over the mere 
 name of the man worked a strange reaction in Bobby 
 Burnit. 
 
 "After all, business is business," he declared to him- 
 self, "and I don't see where Sharpe's personality 
 figures in this Brightlight Electric deal, especially 
 since I am to have control." 
 
 Accordingly he directed Chalmers and Johnson to 
 make a thorough investigation of that corporation.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 BOBBY ENTERS A BUSINESS ALLIANCE, A SOCIAL ENTAN- 
 GLEMENT AND A QUARREL WITH AGNES 
 
 THE report of Mr. Johnson and Mr. Chalmers 
 upon the Brightlight Electric Company was 
 a complicated affair, but, upon the whole, 
 highly favorable. It was an old establishment, the 
 first electric company that had been formed in the 
 city, and it held, besides some minor concessions, an 
 ancient franchise for the exclusive supply of twelve 
 of the richest down-town blocks, this franchise, made 
 by a generous board of city fathers, still having 
 twenty years to run. The concern's equipment was 
 old and much of it needed renewal, but its financial 
 affairs were in good shape, except for a mortgage of 
 a hundred thousand dollars held by one J. W. 
 Williams. 
 
 "About this mortgage," Mr. Chalmers advised Mr. 
 Burnit ; "its time limit expires within two months, and 
 I have no doubt that is why Sharpe wants to put addi- 
 tional capital into the concern. Moreover, Williams 
 156
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 157 
 
 is notoriously reputed a lieutenant of Sam Stone's, 
 and it is quite probable that Stone is the real holder 
 of the mortgage." 
 
 "I don't see where it makes much difference, so 
 long as the mortgage has to be paid, whether it is 
 paid to Stone or to somebody else," said Bobby 
 reflectively. 
 
 "I don't see any difference myself," agreed Chal- 
 mers, "except that I am suspicious of that whole 
 crowd, since Sharpe is only a figurehead for Stone. 
 I find that Sharpe is credited with holding two hun- 
 dred thousand dollars' worth of the present stock. 
 The majority of the Consumers Company and a good 
 share of the United are also in his name. Just how 
 all these facts have a bearing upon each other I 
 can not at present state, but in view of the twenty 
 years' franchise, and of the fact that you will hold 
 undisputed control, I do not see but that you have a 
 splendid investment here. The contract for the city 
 lighting of those twelve blocks is ironclad, and the 
 franchise for exclusive private lighting and power 
 is exclusive so long as 'reasonably satisfactory serv- 
 ice' is maintained. As this has been undisputed for 
 thirty years I don't think you need have much fear 
 upon that score," and Chalmers smiled. 
 
 In the afternoon of that same day Sharpe called 
 up.
 
 158 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "What dinner engagement have you for to-night?" 
 he inquired. 
 
 "None," replied Bobby, after a moment of hesita- 
 tion. 
 
 "Then I want you to dine with me at the Spender. 
 Can you make it?" 
 
 "I guess so," replied Bobby reluctantly, after an- 
 other hesitant pause. "What time, say?" 
 
 "About seven. Just inquire at the desk. I'll have 
 a dining-room reserved." 
 
 Bobby was very thoughtful as he arrayed himself 
 for dinner, and he was still more thoughtful when, a 
 boy ushering him into the cozy little private dining- 
 room, he found the over-dazzling young Mrs. Sharpe 
 with her husband. She greeted the handsome young 
 Mr. Burnit most effusively, clasping his hand warmly 
 and rolling up her large eyes at him while Mr. Sharpe 
 looked on with smiling approval. Bobby experienced 
 that strange conflict which most men have known, a 
 feeling of revulsion at war with the undoubted lure 
 of the women. She was one of those who deliberately 
 make appeal through their feminity alone. 
 
 "Such a pleasure to meet you," she said in the most 
 silvery of voices. "I have heard so much of Mr. 
 Burnit and his polo skill." 
 
 "It's the best trick I do," confessed Bobby, laugh- 
 ing.
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 159 
 
 "That's because Mr. Burnit hasn't found his proper 
 forte as yet," interposed Sharpe. "He was really cut 
 out for the illuminating business." And he led the 
 way to the table, upon which Bobby had already noted 
 that five places were laid. 
 
 "A couple of our friends might drop in," said the 
 host in explanation ; "they usually do." 
 
 "If it's Sam and Billy we're not going to wait for 
 them," said Mrs. Sharpe with a languishing glance 
 at Bobby. "They're always ages and ages late, if 
 they come at all. Frank, where are those cocktails? 
 I'm running down." 
 
 She took the drink with an avidity Bobby was not 
 used to seeing among his own women friends, and 
 almost immediately it heightened her vivacity. There 
 could be no question that she was a fascinating woman. 
 Again Bobby had that strange sense of revulsion, and 
 again he was conscious that, in spite of her trace of 
 a tendency to indecorum, there was a subtle appeal 
 in her ; one, however, that he shrank from analyzing. 
 Her talk was mostly of the places she had been, with 
 almost pathetic little mention now and then of unat- 
 tainable people. Evidently she craved social position, 
 in spite of the fact that she was for ever shut out 
 from it. 
 
 While they were upon the fish the door opened and 
 two men came in. With a momentary frown Bobby
 
 160 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 recognized both; one of them the great Sam Stone, 
 and the other William Garland, a rich young cigar 
 manufacturer, quite prominent in public affairs. The 
 latter he had met ; the former he inspected quite curi- 
 ously as he acknowledged the introduction. 
 
 Stone gave one the idea that he was extremely 
 heavy ; not that he was so grossly stbut, although he 
 was large, but he seemed to convey an impression 
 of tremendous weight. His features and his expres- 
 sion were heavy, his eyes were heavy-lidded, and he 
 was taciturnity itself. He gave Bobby a quick scru- 
 tiny from head to foot, and in that instant had 
 weighed him, measured him, catalogued and indexed 
 him for future reference for ever. Stone's only spoken 
 word had been a hoarse acknowledgment of his intro- 
 duction, and as soon as the entree came on he attacked 
 it with a voracious appetite, which, however, did not 
 prevent him from weighing and absorbing in silence 
 every word that was spoken in his hearing. Bobby 
 found himself wondering how this unattractive man 
 could have secured his tremendous following, in spite 
 of the fact that Stone "never broke a promise and 
 never went back on a friend," qualities which would 
 go far toward establishing any man in the esteem of 
 mankind. 
 
 It was not until the appearance of the salad that 
 any allusion was made to business, and then Garland,
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 161 
 
 upon an impatient signal from Stone, turned to Bobby 
 with the suavity of which he was thorough master. 
 
 "Mr. Sharpe tells me that you consider taking a 
 dip into the public utilities line," he suggested. 
 
 Instantly three of them bent an attention upon 
 Bobby so straight that it might have been palpable 
 even to him, had not Stone suddenly lighted a match 
 to attract their attention, and glared at them. 
 
 "I have already decided," said Bobby frankly, see- 
 ing no reason for fencing. "My legal and business 
 advisers tell me that it would be a good investment, 
 and I am ready to take hold of the Brightlight Elec- 
 tric as soon as the formalities can be arranged." 
 
 Stone grunted his approval, and immediately rose, 
 looking at his watch. 
 
 "Pleased to have met you, Mr. Burnit," he rumbled 
 hoarsely, and took his coat and hat. "Sorry I can't 
 stay. Promised to meet a man." 
 
 "Coming back?" asked Garland. 
 
 "Might," responded the other, and was gone. 
 
 As soon as Stone had left, the trifle of strain that 
 had been apparent prior to Bobby's very decided 
 statement that he would go into the business, was 
 lifted ; and Mrs. Sharpe, pink of cheek and sparkling 
 of eye and exhilarated by the wine to her utmost of 
 purely physical attractiveness, moved when the coffee 
 was served to a chair between Bobby and Garland,
 
 162 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 and, gifted with a purring charm, exerted herself to 
 the utmost to please the new-comer. She puzzled 
 Bobby. The woman was an entirely new type to him, 
 /and he could not fathom her. 
 
 With the clearing of the table more champagne 
 was brought, and Bobby began to have an uneasy 
 dread of a "near-orgie," such as was associated in 
 the minds of the knowing ones with this crowd. 
 Sharpe, however, quickly removed this fear, for, 
 pushing aside his own glass with a bare sip after it 
 had been filled, he drew forth a pencil and produced 
 some papers which he spread before Bobby. 
 
 "I imagined that you would have a very favorable 
 report on the Brightlight Electric," he said with a 
 smile, "so I took the liberty of bringing along an 
 outline of my plan for reorganization. If Mr. Gar- 
 land and Mrs. Sharpe will excuse us for talking shop 
 we might glance over them together." 
 
 "You're selfish," pouted Mrs. Sharpe quite prettily, 
 but, nevertheless, she turned her exclusive attention 
 to Garland for the time being. 
 
 With considerable interest Bobby plunged into 
 the business at hand. Here was a well-established 
 concern that had been doing business for three de- 
 cades, which had been paying ten per cent, dividends 
 for years, and which would doubtless continue to do 
 so for many years to come. An opportunity to ob-
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 163 
 
 tain control of it solved his problem of investment at 
 once, and he strove to approach its intricacies with 
 intelligence. He became vaguely aware, by and by, 
 that just behind him Garland and Mrs. Sharpe were 
 carrying on a most animated conversation in an un- 
 dertone interspersed with much laughter, and once, 
 with a start of annoyance, he overheard Garland tell- 
 ing a slightly risque story, at which Mrs. Sharpe 
 laughed softly and with evident relish. He glanced 
 around involuntarily. Garland had his arm across 
 the back of her chair, and they were leaning toward 
 each other in a close proximity which Bobby reflected 
 with sudden savageness could not possibly occur if 
 that were his wife ; nor was he much softened by the 
 later reflection that, in the first place, a woman of 
 her type never could have been his wife, and that, in 
 the second place, it was not the man who was to blame, 
 nor the woman so much, as Sharpe himself. Indeed, 
 Bobby somehow gained the impression that the others 
 flouted and despised Sharpe and held him as a weak- 
 ling. 
 
 His glance was but a fleeting one, and he turned 
 from them with a look which Sharpe, noting, misin- 
 terpreted. 
 
 "I had hoped," he said, "to go into this thing very 
 thoroughly, so that we could begin the reorganiza- 
 tion at once, with the preliminaries completely under-
 
 164 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 stood ; but if we are detaining you from any engage- 
 ment, Mr. Burnit " 
 
 "Not at all, not at all," the highly-interested Bobby 
 hastened to assure him. "I have no engagements 
 whatever to-night, and my time is entirely at your 
 disposal." 
 
 i "Then let's drop down to the theater," suddenly 
 interposed Mrs. Sharpe. "You can talk your dust- 
 dry business there just as well as here. Billy, tele- 
 phone down to the Orpheum and see if they have a 
 box." 
 
 Bobby was far too unsuspecting to understand that 
 he had been deliberately trapped. Though not of 
 the ultra-exclusives, his social position was an excel- 
 lent one and he had the entree everywhere. To be 
 seen publicly with young Burnit was a step upward, 
 as Mrs. Sharpe saw it, in that forbidding and pain- 
 ful social climb. 
 
 Bobby started with dismay when Garland stepped 
 to the telephone, but he was fairly caught, and he 
 realized it in time to check the involuntary protest 
 that rose to his lips. He had acknowledged that his 
 time was free and at their disposal, and he regretted 
 deeply that no good, handy lie came to his rescue. 
 
 They arrived at the theater between acts, and with 
 the full blaze of the auditorium upon them. Bobby's 
 comfort was not at all heightened when Stone almost
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 165 
 
 immediately followed them in. He had firmly made 
 up his mind as they entered to obtain a place in the 
 rear corner of the box, where he could not be seen; 
 but he was not prepared for the generalship of Mrs. 
 Sharpe, who so maneuvered it as to force him to the 
 very edge, between herself and Garland, and, as she 
 turned to him with a laughing remark which, in pan- 
 tomime, had all the confidential understanding of 
 most cordial and intimate acquaintanceship, Bobby 
 glanced apprehensively across at the other side of the 
 proscenium-arch. There, in the opposite box, star- 
 ing at him in shocked amazement, sat Agnes Ellis- 
 ton! 
 
 "But Agnes," protested Bobby at the Elliston 
 home next day, "I could not possibly help it." 
 
 "No?" she inquired incredulously. "I don't im- 
 agine that any one strongly advised you to have any- 
 thing to do with Mr. Sharpe and it was through 
 him that you met her. Perhaps it is just as well 
 that it happened, however, because it has shown you 
 just how you were about to become involved." 
 
 Bobby swallowed quite painfully. His tongue was 
 a little dry. 
 
 "Well, the fact of the matter is," he admitted, red- 
 dening and stammering, "that I have already 'become 
 involved,' if that's the way you choose to put it; for 
 for I signed an agreement with Sharpe, and an
 
 166 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 application for increase of capitalization, this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 "You don't mean it!" she gasped. "How could 
 you?" 
 
 "Why not?" he demanded. "Agnes, it seems quite 
 impossible for you to divorce business and social 
 affairs. I tell you they have absolutely nothing to 
 do with each other. The opportunity Sharpe offered 
 me is a splendid one. Chalmers and Johnson inves- 
 tigated it thoroughly, and both advise me that it is 
 quite an unusually good chance." 
 
 "You didn't seem to be able to divorce business and 
 social affairs last night," she reminded him rather 
 sharply, returning to the main point at issue and 
 ignoring all else. 
 
 There was the rub. She could not get out of her 
 mind the picture of Mrs. Sharpe chatting gaily with 
 him, smiling up at him and all but fawning upon 
 him, in full view of any number of people who knew 
 both Agnes and Bobby. 
 
 "You have made a deliberate choice of your com- 
 panions, Mr. Burnit, after being warned against 
 them from more than one source," she told him, aflame 
 with indignant jealousy, but speaking with the rigid- 
 ity common in such quarrels, "and you may abide by 
 your choice." 
 
 "Agnes !" he protested. "You don't mean"
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 167 
 
 "I mean just this," she interrupted him coldly, 
 "that I certainly can not afford to be seen in public, 
 and don't particularly care to entertain in private, 
 any one who permits himself to be seen in public with, 
 or entertained in private by, the notorious Mrs. Frank 
 L. Sharpe." 
 
 They were both of them pale, both trembling, both 
 stiffened by hurt and rebellious pride. Bobby gazed 
 at her a moment in a panic, and saw no relenting in 
 her eyes, in her pose, in her compressed lips. She was 
 still thinking of the way Mrs. Sharpe had looked at 
 him. 
 
 "Very well, said he, quite calmly; "since our ar- 
 rangements for this evening are off, I presume I may 
 as well accept that invitation to dine at Sharpe's," 
 and with this petty threat he left the house. 
 
 At the Idlers' he was met by a succession of grins 
 that were more aggravating because for the most part 
 they were but scantily explained. Nick Allstyne, in- 
 deed, did take him into a corner, with a vast show of 
 secrecy, requested him to have an ordinance passed, 
 through his new and influential friends, turning Bed- 
 low Park into a polo ground; while Payne Winthrop 
 added insult to injury by shaking hands with him and 
 most gravely congratulating him but upon what he 
 would not say. Bobby was half grinning and yet 
 half angry when he left the club and went over for
 
 168 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 his usual half hour at the gymnasium. Professor 
 Henry H. Bates was also grinning. 
 
 "See you're butting in with the swell mob," ob- 
 served Mr. Bates cheerfully. "Getting your name in 
 the paper, ain't you, along with the fake heavy- 
 weights and the divorces?" and before Bobby's eyes 
 he thrust a copy of the yellowest of the morning 
 papers, wherein it was set forth that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Frank L. Sharpe had entertained a notable box party 
 at the Orpheum, the night before, consisting of 
 Samuel Stone, William Garland and Robert Burnit, 
 the latter of whom, it was rumored, was soon to be 
 identified with the larger financial affairs of the city, 
 having already contracted to purchase a controlling 
 interest in the Brightlight Electric Company. The 
 paper had more to say about the significance of 
 Bobby's appearance in this company, as indicating 
 the new political move which sought to ally the 
 younger business element with the progressive party 
 that had been so long in safe, sane and conservative 
 control of municipal affairs, except for the temporary 
 setback of the recent so-called "citizens' movement" 
 hysteria. Bobby frowned more deeply as he read on, 
 and Mr. Bates grinned more and more cheerfully. 
 
 "Here's where it happens," he observed. "On the 
 level, Bobby, did they hook you up on this electric 
 deal?"
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 169 
 
 "What's the matter with it?" demanded Bobby. 
 "After thorough investigation by my own lawyer and 
 my own bookkeeper, the Brightlight proves to have 
 been a profitable enterprise for a great many years, 
 and is in as good condition now as it ever was. Why 
 shouldn't I go into it?" 
 
 Biff winked, 
 
 "Because it's no fun being the goat," he replied. 
 "Say, tell me, did you ever earn a pull with this 
 bunch?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, then, why should they hand you anything 
 but the buzzer? If this is a good stunt don't you 
 suppose they'd keep it at home? Don't you suppose 
 that Stone could go out and get half the money in 
 this town, if he wanted it, to put behind a deal that 
 was worth ten per cent, a year and pickings? I don't 
 care what your lawyer or what Johnson says about it, 
 I know the men. This boy Garland is a good sport, 
 all right, but he's for the easy-money crowd every 
 time and they're going to make the next mayor out 
 of him. Our local Hicks would rather be robbed by 
 a lot of friendly stick-up artists than have their 
 money wasted by a lot of wooden-heads, and after 
 this election the old Stone gang will have their feet 
 right back in the trough ; yes ! This is the way I 
 figure the dope. They've framed it up to dump the
 
 170 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Brightlight Electric, and you're the fall guy. So 
 wear pads in your derby, because the first thing you 
 know the hammer's going to drop on your coco." 
 
 "How do you find out so much, Biff?" returned 
 Bobby, smiling. 
 
 "By sleeping seven hours a day in place of twenty- 
 four. If some of the marks I know would only cough 
 up for a good, reliable alarm clock they'd be better 
 off." 
 
 "Meaning me, of course," said Bobby. "For that 
 I'll have to manhandle you a little. Where's your 
 gloves ?" 
 
 For fifteen minutes they punched away at each 
 other with soft gloves as determinedly and as ener- 
 getically as if they were deadly enemies, and then 
 Bobby went back up to his own office. He found Ap- 
 plerod jubilant and Johnson glum. Already Apple- 
 rod heard himself saying to his old neighbors : "As 
 Frank L. Sharpe said to me this morning ," or: 
 "I told Sharpe ," or: "Say! Sam Stone stopped 
 at my desk yesterday ," and already he began to 
 shine by this reflected glory. 
 
 "I hear that you have decided to go into the Bright- 
 light Electric," he observed. 
 
 "Signed all the papers this morning," admitted 
 Bobby. 
 
 "Allow me to congratulate you, sir," said Apple-
 
 A QUARREL WITH AGNES 171 
 
 rod, but Johnson silently produced from an index 
 case a plain, gray envelope, which he handed to Bobby. 
 It was inscribed : 
 
 To My Son Upon His Putting Good Money Into any 
 Public Service Corporation 
 
 and it read : 
 
 "When the manipulators of public service corpora- 
 tions tire of skinning the dear public in bulk, they 
 skin individual specimens just to keep in practice. If 
 you have been fool enough to get into the crowd that 
 invokes the aid of dirty politics to help it hang people 
 on street-car straps, just write them out a check for 
 whatever money you have left, and tell your trustee 
 you are broke again; because you are not and never 
 can be of their stripe, and if you are not of their 
 stripe they will pick your bones. Turn a canary 
 loose in a colony of street sparrows and watch what 
 happens to it." 
 
 Bobby folded up the letter grimly and went into 
 his private room, where he thought long and soberly. 
 That evening he went out to Sharpe's to dinner. As 
 he was about to ring the bell, he stopped, confronted 
 by a most unusual spectacle. Through the long plate- 
 glass of the door he could see clearly back through 
 the hall into the library, and there stood Mrs. Sharpe 
 and William Garland in a tableau "that would have
 
 172 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 given Plato the pip," as Biff Bates might have ex- 
 pressed it had he known about Plato. At that mo- 
 ment Sharpe came silently down the stairs and turned, 
 unobserved, toward the library. Seeing that his wife 
 and Garland were so pleasantly engaged, he very con- 
 siderately turned into the drawing-room instead, and 
 as he entered the drawing-room he lit a cigarette! 
 Bobby, vowing angrily that there could never be room 
 in the Brightlight for both Sharpe and himself, did 
 not ring the bell. Instead, he dropped in at the first 
 public telephone and 'phoned his regrets. 
 
 "By the way," he added, "how soon will you need 
 me again?" 
 
 "Not before a week, at least," Sharpe replied. 
 
 "Very well, then," said Bobby; "I'll be back a 
 week from to-day." 
 
 Immediately upon his arrival down-town he tele- 
 graphed the joyous news to Jack Starlett, in Wash- 
 ington, to prepare for an old-fashioned loafing bee.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A STRANGE CONNECTION DEVELOPS BETWEEN ELEC- 
 TEICITY AND POLITICS 
 
 CHALMERS, during Bobby's absence, secured 
 all the secret information that he could con- 
 cerning the Brightlight Electric, but noth- 
 ing to its detriment transpired in that investigation, 
 and when he returned, Bobby, very sensibly as he 
 thought, completed his investment. He paid his two 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars into the coffers of 
 the company, and, at the first stock-holders' meeting, 
 voting this stock and the ten shares he had bought 
 from Sharpe at a hundred and seventy-two, he elected 
 his own board of directors, consisting of Chalmers, 
 Johnson, Applerod, Biff Bates and himself, giving 
 one share of stock to each of the other four gentle- 
 men so that they would be eligible. The remaining 
 two members whom he allowed to be elected were 
 Sharpe and J. W. Williams, and the board of direc- 
 tors promptly elected Bobby president and treasurer, 
 Johnson secretary and Chalmers vice-president a re- 
 sult which gave Bobby great satisfaction. Once he 
 173
 
 174 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 had been frozen out of a stock company ; this time he 
 had absolute control, and he found great pleasure in 
 exercising it, though against Chalmers' protest. With 
 swelling triumph he voted to himself, through his 
 "dummy" directors, the salary of the former presi- 
 dent twelve thousand dollars a year though he 
 wondered a trifle that President Eastman submitted 
 to his retirement with such equanimity, and after he 
 walked away from that meeting he considered his 
 business career as accomplished. He was settled for 
 life if he wished to remain in the business, the salary 
 added to the dividends on two hundred and sixty thou- 
 sand dollars worth of stock bringing his own indi- 
 vidual income up to a quite respectable figure. If 
 there were no further revenue to be derived from the 
 estate of John Burnit, he felt that he had a very 
 fair prospect in life, indeed, and could, no doubt, make 
 his way very nicely. 
 
 He had been unfortunate enough to find Agnes 
 Elliston "not at home" upon the two occasions when 
 he had called since their disagreement upon the sub- 
 ject of the Sharpes, but now he called her up by tele- 
 phone precisely as if nothing had happened, and ex- 
 plained to her how good his prospects were; good 
 enough, in fact, he added, that he could look matri- 
 mony very squarely in the eye. 
 
 "Allow me to congratulate you," said Agnes
 
 ELECTRICITY AND POLITICS 175 
 
 sweetly. "I presume I'll read presently about the 
 divorce that precedes your marriage," and she hung 
 up the receiver; all of which, had Bobby but paused 
 to reflect upon it, was a very fair indication that all 
 he had to do was to jump in his automobile and call 
 on Aunt Constance Elliston, force his way upon the 
 attention of Agnes and browbeat that young lady 
 into an immediate marriage. He chose, on the con- 
 trary, to take the matter more gloomily, and Johnson, 
 after worrying about him for three dismal days, con- 
 sulted Biff Bates. But Biff, when the problem was 
 propounded to him, only laughed. 
 
 "His steady has lemoned him," declared Biff. "Any 
 time a guy's making plenty of money and got good 
 health and ain't married, and goes around with an all- 
 day grouch, you can play it for a one to a hundred 
 favorite that his entry's been scratched in the solitaire 
 diamond stakes." 
 
 "Uh-huh," responded the taciturn Johnson, and 
 stalked back with grim purpose to the Electric Com- 
 pany's office, of which Bobby and Johnson and Ap- 
 plerod had taken immediate possession. 
 
 The next morning Johnson handed to Bobby one of 
 the familiar gray envelopes, inscribed: 
 
 To My Son Upon the Occasion of His Having a 
 Misunderstanding with Agnes Elliston
 
 176 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 He submitted the envelope with many qualms and 
 misgivings, though without apology, but one glance 
 at Bobby's face as that young gentleman read the in- 
 scription relieved him of all responsibility in the mat- 
 ter, for if ever a face showed guilt, that face was the 
 face of Bobby Burnit. In the privacy of the presi- 
 dent's office Bobby read the briefest note of the many 
 that his forethoughted father had left behind him in 
 Johnson's charge: 
 
 "You're a blithering idiot !" 
 
 That was all. Somehow, that brief note seemed to 
 lighten the gloom, to lift the weight, to remove some 
 sort of a barrier, and he actually laughed. Immedi- 
 ately he called up the Ellistons. He received the in- 
 formation from the housekeeper that Agnes and Aunt 
 Constance had gone to New York on an extended shop- 
 ping trip, and thereby he lost his greatest and only 
 opportunity to prove that he had at last been suc- 
 cessful in business. That day, all the stock which 
 Frank L. Sharpe had held began to come in for trans- 
 fer, in small lots of from ten to twenty shares, and 
 inside a week not a certificate stood in Sharpe's name. 
 All the stock held by Williams also came in for trans- 
 fer. Bobby went immediately to see Sharpe, and, 
 very much concerned, inquired into the meaning of
 
 ELECTRICITY AND POLITICS 177 
 
 this. Mr. Sharpe was as pleasant as Christmas morn- 
 ing. 
 
 "To tell you the truth, Mr. Burnit," said he, 
 "there were several very good reasons. In the first 
 place, I needed the money; in the second place, you 
 were insistent upon control and abused it ; in the third 
 place, since the increased capitalization and change 
 of management the quotations on Brightlight Electric 
 dropped from one-seventy-two to one-sixty-five, and I 
 got out before it could drop any lower. You will 
 give me credit for selling the stock privately and in 
 small lots where it could not break the price. How- 
 ever, Mr. Burnit, I don't see where the sale of my 
 stock affects you in any way. You have the Bright- 
 light Electric now in good condition, and all it needs 
 to remain a good investment is proper management." 
 
 "I'm afraid it needs more than that," retorted 
 Bobby. "I'm afraid it needs to be in a position to 
 make more money for other people than for myself;" 
 through which remark it may be seen that, though 
 perhaps a trifle slow, Bobby was learning. 
 
 Another lesson awaited him. On the following 
 morning every paper in the city blazed with the dis- 
 quieting information that the Consumers' Electric 
 Light and Power Company and the United Illumi- 
 nating and Fuel Company were to be consolidated! 
 Out of the two old concerns a fifty-million-dollar cor-
 
 178 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 poration was to be formed, and a certain portion of 
 the stock was to be sold in small lots, as low, even, as 
 one share each, so that the public should be given a 
 chance to participate in this unparalleled investment. 
 Oh, it was to be a tremendous boon to the city ! 
 
 Bobby, much worried, went straight to Chalmers. 
 
 "So far as I can see you have all the best of the 
 bargain," Chalmers reassured him. "The Consumers', 
 already four times watered and quoted at about sev- 
 enty, is to be increased from two to five million be- 
 fore the consolidation, so that it can be taken in at 
 ten million. The Union, already watered from one 
 to nine million in its few brief years, takes on an- 
 other hydraulic spurt and will be bought for twenty 
 million. Of the thirty million dollars which is to be 
 paid for the old corporation, nineteen million repre- 
 sents new water, the most of which will be distributed 
 among Stone and his henchmen. The other twenty 
 million will go to the dear public, who will probably 
 be given one share of common as a bonus with each 
 share of preferred, and pay ten million sweaty dol- 
 lars for it. Do you think this new company expects 
 to pay dividends? On their plants, worth at a high 
 valuation, five million dollars, and their new capital 
 of ten million, a profit must be earned for fifty mil- 
 lion dollars' worth of stock, and it can not be done. 
 Within a year I expect to see Consolidated Illuminat-
 
 ELECTRICITY AND POLITICS 179 
 
 ing and Power Company stock quoted at around 
 thirty. By that time, however, Stone and his crowd 
 will have sold theirs, and will have cleaned up mil- 
 lions. Brightlight Electric was probably too small 
 a factor to be considered in the consolidation. Did 
 you pay off that mortgage? Then Stone has his 
 hundred thousand dollars; the back salary list of 
 Stone's henchmen has been paid up with your money ; 
 Sharpe and Williams have converted their stock and 
 Stone's into cash at a fancy figure ; Eastman is to be 
 taken care of in the new company and they are satis- 
 fied. In my estimation you are well rid of the entire 
 crowd, unless they have some neat little plan for 
 squeezing you. But I'll tell you what I would do. I 
 would go direct to Stone, and see what he has to 
 say." 
 
 Bobby smiled ironically at himself as he climbed 
 the dingy stairs up which it was said that every man 
 of affairs in the city must sooner or later toil to bend 
 the knee, but he was astonished when he walked into 
 the office of Stone to find it a narrow, bare little room, 
 with the door wide open to the hall. There was an 
 old, empty desk in it for Stone never kept nor wrote 
 letters and four common kitchen chairs for waiting 
 callers. At the desk near the one window sat Stone, 
 and over him bent a shabby-looking man, whispering. 
 J3tone ; grunting occasionally, looked out of the win-
 
 180 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 dow while he listened, and when the man was through 
 gave him a ten-dollar bill. 
 
 "It's all right," Stone said gruffly. "I'll be in court 
 myself at ten o'clock to-morrow morning, and you 
 may tell Billy that I'll get him out of it." 
 
 Another man, a flashily-dressed fellow, was ahead 
 of Bobby, and he, too, now leaned over Stone and 
 whispered. 
 
 "Nothing doing," rumbled Stone. 
 
 The man, from his gestures, protested earnestly. 
 
 "Nix !" declared Stone loudly. "You threw me two 
 years ago this fall, and you can't come back till you're 
 on your uppers good and proper. I don't want to see 
 3 r ou nor hear of you for another year, and you needn't 
 send any one to me to fix it, because it can't be fixed. 
 Now beat it. I'm busy !" 
 
 The man, much crestfallen, "beat it." Bobby was 
 thankful that there was no one else waiting when it 
 was his turn to approach the Mogul. Stone shook 
 hands cordially enough. 
 
 "Mr. Stone," inquired Bobby, "how does it come 
 that the Brightlight Electric Company was not offered 
 a chance to come into this new consolidation?" 
 
 "How should I know ?" asked Stone in reply. 
 
 "It is popularly supposed," suggested Bobby, smil- 
 ing, "that you know a great deal about it." 
 
 Mr. Stone ignored that supposition completely.
 
 ELECTRICITY AND POLITICS 181 
 
 "Mr. Burnit, how much political influence do you 
 think you could swing?" 
 
 "Frankly, I never thought of it," said Bobby sur- 
 prised. 
 
 "You belong to the Idlers' Club, you belong to the 
 Traders' Club, to the Fish and Game, the Brassie, 
 the Gourmet, and the Thespian Clubs. You are a 
 member of the board of governors in three of these 
 clubs, and are very popular in all of them. A man 
 like you, if he would get wise, could swing a strong 
 following." 
 
 "Possibly," admitted Bobby dryly; "although I 
 wouldn't enjoy it." 
 
 "One-third of the members of the Traders' Club do 
 not vote, more than half of the members of the Fish 
 and Game and the Brassie do not vote, none of the 
 members of the other clubs vote at all," went on Mr. 
 Stone. "They ain't good citizens. If you're the man 
 that can stir them up the right way you'd find it worth 
 while." 
 
 "But just now," evaded Bobby, "whom did you say 
 I should see about this consolidation ?" 
 
 "Sharpe," snapped Stone. "Good day, Mr. Bur- 
 nit." And Bobby walked away rather belittled in his 
 own estimation. 
 
 He had been offered an excellent chance to become 
 one of Stone's political lieutenants, had been given
 
 182 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 an opportunity to step up to the pie counter, to enjoy 
 the very material benefits of the Stone style of mu- 
 nicipal government; and in exchange for this he had 
 only to sell his fellows. He knew now that his visit 
 to Sharpe would be fruitless, that before he could ar- 
 rive at Sharpe's office that puppet would have had a 
 telephone message from Stone; yet, his curiosity 
 aroused, he saw the thing through. Mr. Sharpe, 
 upon his visit, met Bobby as coldly as the January 
 morning when the Christmas bills come in. 
 
 "We don't really care for the Brightlight Electric 
 in the combination at all," said Mr. Sharpe, "but if 
 you wish to come in at a valuation of five hundred 
 thousand I guess we can find a place for you." 
 
 "Let me understand," said Bobby. "By a valua- 
 tion of five hundred thousand dollars you mean that 
 the Brightlight stock-holders can exchange each share 
 of their stock for one share in the Consolidated?" 
 
 "That's it, precisely," said Mr. Sharpe without a 
 smile. 
 
 "You're joking," objected Bobby. "My stock in 
 the Brightlight is worth to-day one hundred and fifty 
 dollars a share. My two hundred and sixty thousand 
 dollars' worth of stock in the Consolidated would not 
 be worth par, even, to-day. Why do you make this 
 discrimination when you are giving the stock-holders 
 of the Consumers' an exchange of five shares for one,
 
 ELECTRICITY AND POLITICS 183 
 
 and the stock-holders of the United an exchange of 
 twenty shares for nine?" 
 
 "We need both those companies," calmly explained 
 Sharpe, "and we don't need the Brightlight." 
 
 "Is that figure the best you will do?" 
 
 "Under the circumstances, yes." 
 
 "Very well then," said Bobby; "good day." 
 
 "By the way, Mr. Burnit," Sharpe said to him with 
 a return of the charming smile which had been con- 
 spicuously absent on this occasion, "we needn't con- 
 sider the talk entirely closed as yet. It might be pos- 
 sible that we would be able, between now and the first 
 of the next month, when the consolidation is to be 
 completed, to make you a much more liberal offer to 
 come in with us ; to be one of us, in fact." 
 
 Bobby sat down again. 
 
 "How soon may I see you about it?" he asked. 
 
 "I'll let you know when things are shaped up right. 
 By the way, Mr. Burnit, you are a very young man 
 yet, and just starting upon your career. Really you 
 ought to look about you a bit and study what advan- 
 tages you have in the way of personal influence and 
 following." 
 
 "I have never counted that I had a 'following.' " 
 
 "I understand that you have a very strong one," in- 
 sisted Sharpe. "What you ought to do is to see Mr. 
 Stone."
 
 184 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I have been to see him," replied Bobby with a 
 smile. 
 
 "So I understand," said Sharpe dryly. "By the 
 way, next Tuesday I am to be voted upon in the 
 Idlers'. You are on the board of governors up there, 
 I believe?" 
 
 "Yes," said Bobby steadily. 
 
 Sharpe studied him for a moment. 
 
 "Well, come around and see me about this consoli- 
 dation on Wednesday," he suggested, "and in the 
 meantime have another talk with Stone. By all means, 
 go and see Stone." 
 
 "Johnson," asked Bobby, later, "what would you 
 <3o if a man should ask you to sell him your personal 
 influence, your self-respect and your immortal soul?" 
 
 "I'd ask his price," interposed Applerod with a 
 grin. 
 
 "You'd never get an offer," snapped Johnson to 
 Applerod, "for you haven't any to sell. Why do you 
 ask, Mr. Burnit?" 
 
 Bobby regarded Johnson thoughtfully for a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 "I know how to make the Brightlight Electric 
 Company yield me two hundred per cent, dividends 
 within a year or less," he stated. 
 
 "Through Stone?" inquired Johnson.
 
 ELECTRICITY AND POLITICS 185 
 
 "Through Stone," admitted Bobby, smiling at 
 Johnson's penetration. 
 
 "I thought so. I guess your father has summed 
 up, better than I could put it, all there is to be said 
 upon that subject." And from his index-file he pro- 
 duced one of the familiar gray envelopes, inscribed : 
 
 To My Son Robert Upon the Subject of Bribery 
 
 "When a man sells his independence and the faith of 
 his friends he is bankrupt. Both the taker and the 
 giver of a bribe, even when it is called 'preferment,' 
 are like dogs with fleas ; they yelp in their sleep ; only 
 the man gets callous after a while and the dog doesn't. 
 Whoever the fellow is that's trying to buy your self- 
 respect, go soak him in the eye, and pay your fine." 
 
 "For once I agree most heartily with the governor," 
 said Bobby, and as a result he did not go to see Stone. 
 Moreover, Frank L. Sharpe was blackballed at the 
 Idlers' Club with cheerful unanimity, and Bobby figu- 
 ratively squared his shoulders to receive the blow that 
 he was convinced must certainly fall.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 AGNES APPEARS PUBLICLY WITH MRS. SHARPE AND 
 BIFF BATES HAS A ONE-ROUND SCRAP 
 
 THAT night, though rather preoccupied by 
 the grave consequences that might ensue on 
 this flat-footed defiance of Stone and his 
 crowd, Bobby went to the theater with Jack Starlett 
 and Jack's sister and mother. As they seated them- 
 selves he bowed gravely across the auditorium to 
 Agnes and Aunt Constance Elliston, who, with Uncle 
 Dan, were entertaining a young woman relative from 
 Savannah. He did not know how the others accepted 
 his greeting ; he only saw Agnes, and she smiled quite 
 placidly at him, which was far worse than if she had 
 tilted her head. Through two dreary, interminable 
 acts he sat looking at the stage, trying to talk small 
 talk with the Starletts and remaining absolutely mis- 
 erable; but shortly before the beginning of the last 
 act he was able to take a quite new and gleeful inter- 
 est in life, for the young woman from Savannah came 
 fluttering into the Elliston box, bearing in tow the 
 beautiful and vivacious Mrs. Frank L. Sharpe ! 
 186
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 187 
 
 Bobby turned his opera-glasses at once upon that 
 box, and pressed Jack Starlett into service. Being 
 thus attracted, the ladies of the Starlett box, mystified 
 and unable to extract any explanation from the two 
 gleeful men, were compelled, by force of circumstances 
 and curiosity, also to opera-glass and lorgnette the 
 sufferers. 
 
 Like the general into which he was developing, 
 Bobby managed to meet Agnes face to face in the 
 foyer after the show. Tears of mortification were in 
 her eyes, but still she was laughing when he strode 
 up to her and with masterful authority drew her arm 
 beneath his own. 
 
 "Your carriage is too small for four," Bobby calmly 
 told Mr. Elliston, and, excusing himself from the 
 Starletts, deliberately conducted Agnes to a hansom. 
 As they got well under way he observed : 
 
 "You will notice that I make no question of being 
 seen in public with " 
 
 "Bobby!" she protested. "Violet did not know. 
 The Sharpes visited in Savannah. His connections 
 down there are quite respectable, and no doubt Mrs. 
 Sharpe, who is really clever, held herself very cir- 
 cumspectly." 
 
 "Fine !" said Bobby. "You will notice that I am 
 quite willing to listen to you. Explain some more." 
 
 "Bobby!" she protested again, and then suddenly
 
 188 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 she bent forward and pressed her handkerchief to her 
 eyes. 
 
 Bobby was astounded. She was actually crying! 
 In a moment he had her in his arms, was pressing her 
 head upon his shoulder, was saying soothing things 
 to her with perfectly idiotic volubility. For an in- 
 finitesimally brief space Agnes yielded to that em- 
 brace, and then suddenly she straightened up in dis- 
 may. 
 
 "Good gracious, Bobby!" she exclaimed. "This 
 hansom is all glass!" 
 
 He looked out upon the brilliantly lighted street 
 with a reflex of her own consternation, but quickly 
 found consolation. 
 
 "Well, after all," he reflected philosophically, "I 
 don't believe anybody who saw me would blame me." 
 
 "You're a perfectly incorrigible Bobby," she 
 laughed. "The only check possible to put upon you 
 is to hold you rigidly to business. How are you com- 
 ing out with the Brightlight Electric Company? I 
 have been dying to ask you about it." 
 
 "I have a telephone in my office," he reminded her. 
 
 "I am completely ignoring that ungenerous sug- 
 gestion," she replied. 
 
 "It wasn't sportsmanlike," he penitently admitted. 
 "Well, the Brightlight Electric is still making money, 
 and Johnson has stopped leaks to the amount of at
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 189 
 
 least twenty thousand dollars a year, which will per- 
 mit us to keep up the ten per cent, dividends, even 
 with our increased capitalization, and even without 
 an increase of business." 
 
 "Glorious !" she said with sparkling eyes. 
 
 "Too good to be true," he assured her. "They'll 
 take it away from me." 
 
 "How is it possible ?" she asked. 
 
 "It isn't; but it will happen, nevertheless," he de- 
 clared with conviction. 
 
 He had already begun to spend his days and nights 
 in apprehension of this, and as the weeks went on and 
 nothing happened his apprehension grew rather than 
 diminished. 
 
 In the meantime, the Consolidated Illuminating and 
 Power Company went pompously on. The great com- 
 bine was formed, the fifty million dollars' worth of 
 stock was opened for subscription, and the company 
 gave a vastly expensive banquet in the convention 
 hall of the Hotel Spender, at which a thousand of the 
 city's foremost men were entertained, and where the 
 cleverest after-dinner speakers to be obtained talked 
 in relays until long after midnight. Those who came 
 to eat the rich food and drink the rare wine and lend 
 their countenances to the stupendous local enterprise, 
 being shrewd business graduates who had cut their 
 eye-teeth in their cradles, smiled and went home with-
 
 190 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 out any thought of investing; but the hard-working, 
 economical chaps of the offices and shops, men who 
 felt elated if, after five years of slavery, they could 
 show ten hundred dollars of savings, glanced in awe 
 over this magnificent list of names in the next day's 
 papers. If the stock of the Corsolidated Illuminating 
 and Power Company was considered a good invest- 
 ment by these generals and captains and lieutenants 
 of finance, who, of course, attended this Arabian 
 Nights banquet as investors, it must certainly be a 
 good investment for the corporals and privates. 
 
 Immediately vivid results were shown. Immense 
 electric signs, furnished at less than cost and some of 
 them as big as the buildings upon the roofs of which 
 they were erected, began to make constellations in the 
 city sky ; buildings in the principal down-town squares 
 were studded, for little or nothing, with outside in- 
 candescent lights as thickly as wall space could be 
 found for them, and the men whose only automobiles 
 are street-cars awoke to the fact that their city was 
 becoming intensely metropolitan; that it was blazing 
 with the blaze of Paris and London and New York; 
 that all this glittering advancement was due to the 
 great new Consolidated Illuminating and Power Com- 
 pany, and more applications for stock were made ! 
 
 Every applicant was supplied, but the treasury 
 stock of the company having been sold out, the scrip
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 191 
 
 had to come from some place else, and it came through 
 devious, secret ways from the holdings of such men 
 as Stone and Garland and Sharpe. 
 
 During the grand orgie of illumination the elec- 
 tion came on; the price of gas and electricity went 
 gloriously and recklessly down, and the men who were 
 identified with the triumphantly successful new illu- 
 minating company were the leading figures in the 
 campaign. The puerile "reform party," the blunders 
 of whose incompetence had been ridiculous, was swept 
 out of existence; Garland was elected mayor by the 
 most overwhelming majority that had ever been known 
 in the city, and with him was elected a council of the 
 same political faith. Sam Stone, always in the back- 
 ground, always keeping his name out of the papers 
 as much as possible, came once more to the throne, 
 and owned the city and all its inhabitants and all its 
 business enterprises and all its public utilities, body 
 and soul. 
 
 One night, shortly after the new officials went into 
 power, there was no light in the twelve blocks over 
 which the Brightlight Company had exclusive control, 
 nor any light in the outside districts it supplied. 
 This was the first time in years that the company, 
 equipped with an emergency battery of dynamos 
 which now proved out of order, had ever failed for 
 an instant of proper service. Candles, kerosene lamps
 
 192 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 and old gas fixtures, the rusty cocks of which had 
 not been turned in a decade, were put hastily in use, 
 while the streets were black with a blackness particu- 
 larly Stygian, contrasted with the brilliantly illumi- 
 nated squares supplied by the Consolidated Company. 
 All night long the mechanical force, attended by the 
 worried but painfully helpless Bobby, pounded and 
 tapped and worked in the grime, but it was not until 
 broad daylight that they were able to discover the 
 cause of trouble. For two nights the lights ran stead- 
 ily. On the third night, at about seven-thirty, they 
 turned to a dull, red glow, and slowly died out. This 
 time it was wire trouble, and through the long night 
 as large a force of men as could be mustered were 
 tracing it. Not until noon of the next day was the 
 leak found. 
 
 It was a full week before that section of the city 
 was for the third time in darkness, but when this 
 occurred the business men of the district, who had 
 been patient enough the first night and enduring 
 enough the second, loosed their reins and became 
 frantic. 
 
 At this happy juncture the Consolidated Company 
 threw an army of canvassers into those twelve monop- 
 olized blocks, and the canvassers did not need to be 
 men who could talk, for arguments were not neces- 
 sary. The old, worn-out equipment of the Bright-
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 193 
 
 light Electric, and the fact that it was managed and 
 controlled by men who knew nothing whatever of the 
 business, its very president a young fellow who had 
 probably never seen a dynamo until he took charge, 
 were enough. 
 
 Bobby, passing over Plum Street one morning, was 
 surprised to see a large gang of men putting in new 
 poles, and when he reached the office he asked John- 
 son about it. In two minutes he had definitely ascer- 
 tained that no orders had been issued by the Bright- 
 light Electric Company nor any one connected with 
 it, and further inquiry revealed the fact that these 
 poles were being put up by the Consolidated. He 
 called up Chalmers at once. 
 
 "I knew I'd hear from you," said Chalmers, "and 
 I have already been at work on the thing. Of course, 
 you saw what was in the papers." 
 
 "No," confessed Bobby. "Only the sporting 
 pages." 
 
 "You should read news, local and general, every 
 morning," scolded Chalmers. "The new city council, 
 at their meeting last night, granted the Consolidated 
 a franchise to put up poles and wires in this district 
 for lighting." 
 
 "But how could they?" expostulated Bobby. "Our 
 contract with the city has several years to run yet, 
 and guarantees us exclusive privilege to supply light,
 
 194 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 both to the city and to private individuals, in those 
 twelve blocks." 
 
 "That cleverly unobtrusive joker clause about 
 'reasonably satisfactory service,' " replied Chalmers 
 angrily. "By the way, have you investigated the 
 cause of those accidents very thoroughly? Whether 
 there was anything malicious about them?" 
 
 Bobby confessed that he had not thought of the 
 possibility. 
 
 "I think it would pay you to do so. I am delving 
 into this thing as deeply as I can, and with your per- 
 mission I am going to call your father's old attorney, 
 Mr. Barrister, into consultation." 
 
 "Go ahead, by all means," said Bobby, worried be- 
 yond measure. 
 
 At five o'clock that evening Con Ripley came jaunt- 
 ily to the plant of the Brightlight Electric Company. 
 Con was the engineer, and the world was a very good 
 joke to him, although not such a joke that he ever 
 overlooked his own interests. He spruced up con- 
 siderably outside of working hours, did Con, and, 
 although he was nearing forty, considered himself 
 very much a ladies' man, also an accomplished athlete, 
 and positively the last word in electrical knowledge. 
 He was donning his working garments in very lei- 
 surely fashion when a short, broad-shouldered, thick- 
 set young man came back toward him from the office.
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 195 
 
 "You're Con Ripley?" said the new-comer by way 
 of introduction. 
 
 "Maybe," agreed Con. "Who are you?" 
 
 "I'm the Assistant Works," observed Professor 
 Henry H. Bates. 
 
 "Oh!" said Mr. Ripley in some wonder, looking 
 from the soft cap of Mr. Bates to the broad, thick 
 tan shoes of Mr. Bates, and then back up to the wide- 
 set eyes. "I hadn't heard about it." 
 
 "No?" responded Mr. Bates. "Well, I came in to 
 tell you. I don't know enough about electricity to 
 say whether you feed it with a spoon or from a bottle, 
 but I'm here, just the same, to notice that the juice 
 slips through the wires all right to-night, all right." 
 
 "The hell you are !" exclaimed Mr. Ripley, taking 
 sudden umbrage at both tone and words, and also at 
 the physical attitude of Mr. Bates, which had grown 
 somewhat threatening. "All right, Mr. Works," and 
 Mr. Ripley began to step out of his overalls; "jump 
 right in and push juice till you get black in the face, 
 while I take a little vacation. I've been wanting a 
 lay-off for a long time." 
 
 "You'll lay on, Bo," dissented Mr. Bates. "Nix 
 on the vacation. That's just the point. You're go- 
 ing to stick on the job, and I'm going to stick within 
 four feet of you till old Jim-jams Jones shakes along 
 to get his morning's morning; and it will be a sign
 
 196 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 of awful bad luck for you if the lights in this end of 
 town flicker a single flick any time to-night." 
 
 "Is that it?" Mr. Ripley wanted to know. "And 
 if they should happen to flicker some what are you 
 going to do about it?" 
 
 "I don't know yet," said Biff. "I'll knock your 
 block off first and think about it afterward !" 
 
 Mr. Ripley hastily drew his overalls back on and 
 slipped the straps over his shoulders with a snap. 
 
 "You'll tell me when you're going to do it, won't 
 you?" he asked banteringly, and, a full head taller 
 than Mr. Bates, glared down at him a moment in con- 
 tempt. Then he laughed. "I'll give you ten to one 
 the lights will flicker," he offered to bet. "I wouldn't 
 stop such a cunning chance for exercise for real 
 money," and, whirling upon his heel, Mr. Ripley 
 started upon his usual preliminary examination of 
 dynamos and engines and boilers. 
 
 Quite nonchalantly Mr. Bates, puffing at a particu- 
 larly villainous stogie and with his hands resting idly 
 in his pockets, swung after Mr. Ripley, keeping within 
 almost precisely four feet of him. In the boiler- 
 room, Ripley, finding Biff still at his heels, said to 
 the fireman, with a jerk of his thumb over his shoul- 
 der: 
 
 "Rocksey, be sure you keep a good head of steam 
 on to-night if you're a friend of mine. This is Mr.
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 197 
 
 Assistant Works back Here, and he's come in to knock 
 my block off if the lights flicker." 
 
 "Rocksey," a lean man with gray beard-bristles like 
 pins and with muscles in astounding lumps upon his 
 grimy arms, surveyed Mr. Bates with a grin which 
 meant volumes. 
 
 "Ring a bell when it starts, will you, Con?" he re- 
 quested. 
 
 To this Biff paid not the slightest attention, gazing 
 stolidly at the red fire where it shone through the 
 holes of the furnace doors; but when Mr. Rip ley 
 moved away Biff moved also. Ripley introduced Biff 
 in much the same terms to a tall man who was oiling 
 the big, old-fashioned Corliss, and a sudden gleam 
 came into the tall man's eyes as he recognized Mr. 
 Bates, but he turned back to his oiling without smile 
 or comment. Ripley eyed him sharply. 
 
 "You'll hold the sponge and water-bottle for me, 
 won't you, Daly?" he asked, with an evident attempt 
 at jovial conciliation. 
 
 Daly deliberately wiped the slender nose of his oil 
 can and went on oiling. 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Ripley with a frown. 
 "Got a grouch again?" 
 
 "Yes, I have," admitted Daly without looking up, 
 and shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Then cut it out," said Ripley, "and look real un-
 
 198 THE MAEING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 peeved when somebody hands you tickets to the cir- 
 cus." 
 
 From that moment Mr. Ripley seemed to take a 
 keen delight in goading Mr. Bates. He took a sud- 
 den dash half-way down the length of the long room, 
 as if going to the extreme other end of the plant, 
 then suddenly whirled and retraced his steps to meet 
 Biff coming after him; made an equally sudden dart 
 for the mysterious switch-board, and seized a lever as 
 if to throw it, but suddenly changed his mind, appar- 
 ently, and went away, leaving Mr. Bates to infer that 
 the throwing of that particular lever would leave them 
 all in darkness ; later, with Biff ready to spring upon 
 him, he threw that switch to show that it had no im- 
 portant function to perform at all. To all these and 
 many more ingenious tricks to humiliate him, Mr. 
 Bates paid not the slightest attention, but, as calmly 
 and as impassively as Fate, kept as nearly as he could 
 to the four-foot distance he had promised. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock when Biff, interested for 
 a moment in the switch-board, suddenly missed Ripley, 
 and looking about him hastily he saw the fireman 
 standing in the door of the boiler-room grinning at 
 him, while the other workmen all of whom were of 
 the old regime were also enjoying his discomfort; 
 but Daly, catching his eye, nodded significantly to- 
 ward the side-door which led upon the street. It was
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPS 199 
 
 an almost imperceptible nod, but it was enough for 
 Biff, and he dashed out of that door. Half a block 
 ahead of him he saw Ripley hurrying, and took after 
 him with that light, cat-like run which is the height 
 of effortless and noiseless speed. Ripley, looking 
 back hastily, hurried into a saloon, and he had 
 scarcely closed the door when Biff entered after him, 
 in time to see his man standing at the telephone, re- 
 ceiver in hand. It was the work of but an instant 
 to grab Ripley by the arm and jerk him away from 
 the 'phone. Quickly recovering his balance, with a 
 lunge of his whole body Ripley shot a swift fist at 
 the man who had interfered with him, but Biff, with- 
 out shifting his position, jerked his head to one side 
 and the fist shot harmlessly by. Before another blow 
 could be struck, or parried, the bartender, a brawny 
 giant, had rushed between them. 
 
 "Let us alone, Jeff," panted Ripley. "I've got all 
 I can stand for from this rat." 
 
 "Outside !" said Jeff with cold finality. "You can 
 beat him to a pulp in the street, Con, but there'll be 
 no scrimmage in this place without me having a hand 
 in it." 
 
 Ripley considered this ultimatum for a moment in 
 silence, and then, to Biff's surprise, suddenly ran 
 out of the door. It was a tight race to the plant, 
 and there, with Biff not more than two arms' length
 
 00 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 behind him, Ripley jerked at a lever hitherto un- 
 touched, and instantly the place was plunged into 
 complete darkness. 
 
 "There!" screamed Ripley. 
 
 A second later Biff had grappled him, and together 
 they went to the floor. It was only a moment that 
 the darkness lasted, however, for tall Tom Daly stood 
 by the replaced switch, looking down at them in quiet 
 joy. Immediately with the turning on of the light 
 Biff scrambled to his feet like a cat and waited for 
 Ripley to rise. It was Ripley who made the first 
 lunge, which Biff dexterously ducked, and immedi- 
 ately after Biff's right arm shot out, catching his 
 antagonist a glancing blow upon the side of the 
 cheek; a blow which drew blood. Infuriated, again 
 Ripley rushed, but was blocked, and for nearly a 
 minute there was a swift exchange of light blows 
 which did little damage ; then Biff found his opening, 
 and, swinging about the axis of his own spine, threw 
 the entire force of his body behind his right arm, 
 and the fist of that arm caught Ripley below the ear 
 and dropped him like a beef, just as Bobby came 
 running back from the office. 
 
 "What are you doing here, Biff? What's the mat- 
 ter?" demanded Bobby, as Ripley, dazed, struggled 
 to his feet, and, though weaving, drew himself to- 
 gether for another onslaught.
 
 AGNES APPEARS WITH MRS. SHARPE 201 
 
 "Matter!" snarled Biff. "I landed on a frame-up, 
 that's all. This afternoon I saw Sharpe and this 
 Ripley together in a bum wine-room on River Street, 
 swapping so much of that earnest conversation that 
 the partitions bulged, and I dropped to the double- 
 cross that's being handed out to you. I've been try- 
 ing to telephone you ever since, but when I couldn't 
 find you I came right down to run the plant. That's 
 all." 
 
 "You're all right, Biff," laughed Bobby, "but I 
 guess we'll call this a one-round affair, and I'll take 
 charge." 
 
 "Don't stop 'em!" cried Daly savagely, turning 
 to Bobby. "Hand it to him, Biff. He's a crook 
 and an all-round sneak. He beat me out of this job 
 by underhand means, and there ain't a man in the 
 place that ain't tickled to death to see him get the 
 beating that's coming to him. Paste him, Biff !" 
 
 "Biff!" repeated Mr. Ripley, suddenly dropping 
 his hands. "Biff who?" 
 
 "Mr. Biff Bates, the well-known and justly cele- 
 brated ex-champion middleweight," announced Bobby 
 with a grin. "Mr. Ripley Mr. Bates." 
 
 "Biff Bates !" repeated Con Ripley. "Why "didn't 
 some of you guys tell me this was Biff Bates? Mr. 
 Bates, I'm glad to meet you." And with much re- 
 spect he held forth his hand.
 
 202 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Go chase yourself," growled Mr. Bates, in infi- 
 nite scorn. 
 
 Ripley replied with a sudden volley of abuse, 
 couched in the vilest of language, but to this Biff 
 made no reply. He dropped his hands in his coat 
 pockets, and, considering his work done, walked over 
 to the wall and leaned against it, awaiting further 
 developments. 
 
 "Daly," asked Bobby sharply, breaking in upon 
 Ripley's tirade, "are you competent to run this 
 plant?" 
 
 "Certainly, sir," replied Daly. "I should have had 
 the job four years ago. I was promised it." 
 
 "You may consider yourself in charge, then. Mr. 
 Ripley, if you will walk up to the office I'll pay 
 you off."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 BOBBY'S MONEY is ELECTROCUTED AND JOHN BUENIT'S 
 
 SON WAKES UP 
 
 BOBBY, jubilant, went to see Chalmers next 
 day. The lawyer listened gravely, but 
 shook his head. 
 
 "I'm bound to tell you, Mr. Burnit, that you have 
 no case. You must have more proof than this to 
 bring a charge of conspiracy. Ripley had a perfect 
 right to talk with Sharpe or to telephone to some 
 one, and mere hot-headedness could explain his shut- 
 ting off the lights. Your over-enthusiastic friend 
 Bates has ruined whatever prospect you might have 
 had. Your suspicions once aroused, you should have 
 let your man do as he liked, but should have watched 
 him and caught him in a trap of some sort. Now it 
 is too late. Moreover, I have bad news for you. 
 Your contract for city lighting is ironclad, and can 
 not be broken, but I saw to-day a paper signed by 
 an overwhelming majority of your private consumers 
 that the service is not even "reasonably satisfactory,' 
 and that they wish the field open to competition. 
 203
 
 204 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 With this paper to back them, Stone's council granted 
 the right to the Consolidated Company to erect poles, 
 string wires and supply current. We can bring suit 
 if you say so, but you will lose it." 
 
 "Bring suit, then!" ordered Bobby vehemently. 
 "Why, Chalmers, the contract for the city lighting 
 alone would cost the Brightlight money every year. 
 The profit has all been made from private consum- 
 ers." 
 
 "That's why you're losing it," said Chalmers 
 dryly. "The whole project is very plain to me now. 
 The Consumers and the United Companies never 
 cared to enter that field, because their controlling 
 stock-holders were also the Brightlight controlling 
 stock-holders, and they could get more money through 
 the Brightlight than they could through the other 
 companies ; and so they led the public to believe that 
 there was no breaking the monopoly the Brightlight 
 held upon their service. Now, however, they want to 
 gain another stock- jobbing advertisement by driving 
 you out of the field. They planned from the first to 
 wreck you for just that purpose to make Consoli- 
 dated stock seem more desirable when the stock sales 
 began to dwindle and they are perfectly willing to 
 furnish the consumers in your twelve blocks with cur- 
 rent at their present ridiculously low rate, because, 
 with them, any possible profits to be derived from the
 
 BOBBY'S MONEY ELECTROCUTED 205 
 
 business are insignificant compared to the profits to 
 be derived from the sale of their watered stock. The 
 price of illumination and power, later, will soar! 
 Watch it. They're a very bright crowd," and Mr. 
 Chalmers paused to admire them. 
 
 "In other words," said Bobby glumly. ""I am 
 what Biff Bates told me I would be the goat." 
 
 "Precisely," agreed Chalmers. 
 
 "Begin suit anyhow," directed Bobby, "and we'll 
 see what comes of it." 
 
 "By the way," called Chalmers with a curious smile 
 as Bobby opened the door; "I've just learned that 
 one of the foremost enthusiasts in this whole manipu- 
 lation has been quiet and conservative Silas Trim- 
 mer." 
 
 Bobby did not swear. He simply slammed the 
 door. 
 
 Two days later Bobby was surprised to see Sharpe 
 drop in upon him. 
 
 "I understand you are bringing suit against the 
 Consolidated for encroachment upon your territory, 
 and against the city for abrogation of contract," 
 began Sharpe. 
 
 "Yes," said Bobby. 
 
 "Don't you think it rather a waste of money, Mr. 
 Burnit? I can guarantee you positively that you will 
 not win either suit."
 
 206 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I'm willing to wait to find that out." 
 
 "No use," said Sharpe impatiently. "I'll tell you 
 what we will do, Mr. Burnit. If you care to have us 
 to do so, the Consolidated, a little later on, will ab- 
 sorb the Brightlight." 
 
 "On what terms ?" asked Bobby. 
 
 "It all depends. We might discuss that later. 
 There's another matter I'd like to speak with you 
 about. Stone wants to see you, even yet. I want to 
 tell you, Mr. Burnit, he can get along a great deal 
 better without you than you can without him, as you 
 are probably willing to admit by now. But he still 
 wants you. Go and see Stone." 
 
 "On what terms will the Consolidated now ab- 
 sorb the Brightlight?" demanded Bobby sternly. 
 
 "Well," drawled Sharpe, with a complete change 
 of manner, "the property has deteriorated considera- 
 bly within a remarkably short space of time, but 
 I should say that we would buy the Brightlight for 
 three hundred thousand dollars in stock of the Con- 
 solidated, half preferred and half common." 
 
 "And this is your very best offer?" 
 
 "The very best," replied Sharpe, making no at- 
 tempt to conceal his exultant grin. 
 
 "Not on your life," declared Bobby. "I'm going 
 to hold the Brightlight intact. I'm going to fulfill 
 the city contract at a loss, if it takes every cent I can
 
 BOBBY'S MONEY ELECTROCUTED 207 
 
 scrape together, and then I'm going to enter politics 
 myself. I'm going to drive Stone and his crowd out 
 of this city, and we shall see if we can not make a re- 
 adjustment of the illuminating business on my basis 
 instead of his. Good day, Mr. Sharpe." 
 
 "Good day, sir," said Sharpe, and this time he 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 At the door he turned. 
 
 "I'd like to call your attention, young man, to the 
 fact that a great many very determined gentlemen 
 have announced their intention of driving Mr. Stone 
 and his associates out of this city. You might com- 
 pare that with the fact that Mr. Stone and his friends 
 are all here yet, and on top," and with that he with- 
 drew. 
 
 "If I may be so bold as to say so," said Mr. Ap- 
 plerod, worried to paleness by this foolish defiance of 
 so great and good a man, "you have made a very 
 grave error, Mr. Burnit, very grave, indeed. It is 
 suicidal to defy Mr. Sharpe, and through him Mr. 
 Stone!" 
 
 "Will you shut up !" snarled Johnson to his ancient 
 work-mate. "Mr. Burnit, I have no right to take 
 the liberty, but I am going to congratulate you, sir. 
 Whatever follies inexperience may have led you to 
 commit, you are, at any rate, sir, a man, like your 
 father was before you!" and by way of emphasis
 
 208 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Johnson smacked his fist on his desk as he glared in 
 Mr. Applerod's direction. 
 
 "It's all very well to show fight, Johnson," said 
 Bobby, a little wanly, "but just the same I have to 
 acknowledge defeat. I am afraid I boasted too much. 
 Chalmers, after considering the matter, positively re- 
 fuses to bring suit. The whole game is over. I have 
 the Brightlight Company on my hands at a net dead 
 loss of every cent I have sunk into it, and it can not 
 pay me a penny so long as these men remain in power. 
 I am going to fight them with their own weapons, 
 but that is a matter of years. In the meantime, my 
 third business attempt is a hideous failure. Where's 
 the gray envelope, Johnson?" 
 
 "It is here," admitted Johnson, and from his file 
 took the missive in question. 
 
 As Bobby took the letter from Johnson Agnes came 
 into the office and swept toward him with outstretched 
 hand. 
 
 "It is perfectly shameful, Bobby! I just read 
 about it!" 
 
 "So soon?" he wanted to know. 
 
 She carried a paper in her hand and spread it be- 
 fore him. In the very head-line his fate was pro- 
 nounced. "Brightlight Electric Tottering to Its 
 Fall," was the cheerful line which confronted him, 
 and beneath this was set forth the facts that every
 
 BOBBY'S MONEY ELECTROCUTED 209 
 
 profitable contract heretofore held by the Brightlight 
 Electric had been taken away from that unfortunate 
 concern, in which the equipment was said to be so in- 
 efficient as to render decent service out of the question, 
 and that, having remaining to it only a money-losing 
 contract for city lighting, business men were freely 
 predicting its very sudden dissolution. The item, 
 wherein the head-line took up more space than the 
 news, wound up with the climax statement that 
 Brightlight stock was being freely offered at around 
 forty, with no takers. 
 
 To her surprise, Bobby tossed the paper on John- 
 son's desk and laughed. 
 
 "I have been so long prepared for this bit of 
 'news' that it does not shock me much," he said; 
 "moreover, the lower this stock goes the cheaper I can 
 buy it!" 
 
 "Buy it!" she incredulously exclaimed. 
 
 "Exactly," he stated calmly. "I presume that, as 
 heretofore, I'll be given another check, and I do not 
 see any better place to put the money than right 
 here. I am going to fight !" 
 
 "Beg your pardon, sir," said Johnson. '"Your 
 last remark was spoken loud enough to be taken as 
 general, and I am compelled to give you this envel- 
 ope." 
 
 Into his hands Johnson placed a mate to the mis-
 
 210 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 sive which Bobby had not yet opened, and this one 
 was inscribed: 
 
 To My Son Robert, Upon His Declaration that He 
 Will Take Two Starts at the Same Business 
 
 Bobby looked at the two letters in frowning per- 
 plexity, and then silently walked into his own office, 
 where Agnes followed him ; and it was she who closed 
 the door. He sat down at his desk and held that last 
 letter of his father's before him in dread. He had so 
 airily built up his program; and apprehension told 
 him what this letter might contain! Presently he 
 was conscious that Agnes' arm was slipped across his 
 shoulder. She was sitting upon the arm of his chair, 
 and had bent her cheek upon his head. So they read 
 the curt message: 
 
 "To throw good money after bad is like sprinkling 
 salt on a cut. It only intensifies the pain and doesn't 
 work much of a cure. In your case it is strictly for- 
 bidden. You must learn to cut your garment accord- 
 ing to your cloth, to bite off only what you can chew, 
 to lift no more than you can carry. Your next start 
 must not be encumbered." 
 
 "He's wrong !" declared Bobby savagely. 
 "But if he is," protested Agnes, "what can you do 
 about it?"
 
 BOBBY'S MONEY ELECTROCUTED 211 
 
 "If his bequests are conditional I shall have to ac- 
 cept the conditions ; but, nevertheless, I am going to 
 fight; and I am going to keep the Brightlight Elec- 
 tric!" 
 
 Mechanically he opened the other letter now. The 
 contents were to this effect : 
 
 To My Son Upon His Losing Money in a Public 
 Service Corporation 
 
 "Every buzz-saw claims some fingers. Of course 
 you had to be a victim, but now you know how to han- 
 dle a buzz-saw. The first point about it is to treat 
 it with respect. When you realize thoroughly that a 
 buzz-saw is dangerous, half the danger is gone. So, 
 when your wound is healed, you might go ahead and 
 saw, just as a matter of accomplishment. Bobby, how 
 I wish I could talk with you now, for just one little 
 half hour." 
 
 Convulsively Bobby crumpled the letter in his hand 
 and the tears started to his eyes. 
 
 "Bully old dad !" he said brokenly, and opened his 
 watch-case, where the grim but humor-loving face of 
 old John Burnit looked up at his beloved children. 
 
 "And now what are you going to do?" Agnes 
 asked him presently, when they were calmer. 
 
 "Fight!" he vehemently declared. "For the gov- 
 ernor's sake as well as my own."
 
 212 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I just found another letter for you, sir," said 
 Johnson, handing in the third of the missives to come 
 in that day's mail from beyond the Styx. It was 
 inscribed : 
 
 To My Son Robert Upon the Occasion of His Declar- 
 ing Fight Against the Politicians Who 
 Robbed Him 
 
 "Nothing but public laziness allows dishonest men 
 to control public affairs. Any time an honest man 
 puts up a sincere fight against a crook there's a new 
 fat man in striped clothes. If you have a crawful 
 and want to fight against dirty politics in earnest, 
 jump in, and tell all my old friends to put a bet 
 down on you for me. I'd as soon have you spend in 
 that way the money I made as to buy yachts with it ; 
 and I can see where the game might be made as inter- 
 esting as polo. Go in and win, boy." 
 
 "And now what are you going to do?" Agnes 
 asked him, laughing this time. 
 
 "Fight!" he declared exultantly. "I'm going to 
 fight entirely outside of my father's money. I'm 
 going to fight with my own brawn and my own brain 
 and my own resources and my own personal follow- 
 ing! Why, Agnes, that is what the governor has 
 been goading me to do. It is what all this is planned 
 for, and the governor, after all, is right !"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 SOME EMINENT AKTISTS AMUSE MEESTEE BUENIT WHILE 
 HE WAITS 
 
 ONE might imagine, after Bobby's heroic 
 declarations, that, like young David of 
 old, he would immediately proceed to stride 
 forth and slay his giant. There stood his Goliath, 
 full panoplied, sneering, waiting ; but alas ! Bobby 
 had neither sling nor stone. It was all very well 
 to announce in fine frenzy that he would smash the 
 Consolidated, destroy the political ring, drive Sam 
 Stone and his henchmen out of town and wrest all 
 his goods and gear from Silas Trimmer ; but until 
 he could find a place to plant his foot, descry an 
 opening in the armor and procure an adequate 
 weapon, he might just as well bottle his fuming and 
 wait; so Bobby waited. In the meantime he stuck 
 very closely to the Brightlight office, finding there, 
 in the practice of petty economics and the struggle 
 with well-nigh impossible conditions, ample food for 
 thought. In a separate bank reposed the new fund 
 of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which he 
 213
 
 214 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 kept religiously aside from the affairs of the Bright- 
 light, and this fund also waited; for Bobby was not 
 nearly so feverish to find instant employment for it 
 as he had been with the previous ones though he 
 had endless chances. People with the most unheard 
 of schemes seemed to have a peculiar scent for un- 
 sophisticated money, and not only local experts in 
 the gentle art of separation flocked after him, but 
 out of town specialists came to him in shoals. To 
 these latter he took great satisfaction in displaying 
 the gem of his collection of post-mortem letters from 
 old John Burnit : 
 
 "You don't need to go away from home to be 
 skinned ; moreover, it isn't patriotic." 
 
 That usually stopped them. He was growing quite 
 sophisticated, was Bobby, quite able to discern the 
 claws beneath the velvet paw, quite suspicious of all 
 the ingenious gentlemen who wanted to make a for- 
 tune for him; and their frantic attempts to "get his 
 goat," as Biff Bates expressed it, had become as good 
 as a play to this wise young person, as also to the 
 wise young person's trustee. 
 
 Agnes, who was helping Bobby wait, came occa- 
 sionally to the office of the Brightlight on business, 
 and nearly always Bobby had reduced to paper some 
 gaudy new scheme that had been proposed to him,
 
 Little me to trot out and find an angel. Are you it?
 
 SOME EMINENT ARTISTS 215 
 
 over which they both might laugh. In great hilarity 
 one morning they were going over the prospectus of 
 a plan to reclaim certain swamp lands in Florida, 
 when the telephone bell rang, and from Bobby's diffi- 
 culty in understanding and his smile as he hung up 
 the receiver, Agnes knew that something else amusing 
 had turned up. 
 
 "It is from Schmirdonner," he explained as he 
 turned to her again. "He's the conductor of the 
 orchestra at the Orpheum, you know. I gather from 
 what he says that there are some stranded musicians 
 here who probably speak worse English than myself, 
 and he's sending them up to me to see about arrang- 
 ing a benefit for them. You'd better wait; it might 
 be fun, or you might want to help arrange the 
 benefit." 
 
 "No," disclaimed Agnes, laughing and drawing 
 her impedimenta together for departure, "I'll leave 
 both the fun and the philanthropy to you. I know 
 you're quite able to take care of them. I'll just wait 
 long enough to hear how we're to get rid of the water 
 down in Florida. I suppose we bore holes in the 
 ground and let it run out." 
 
 "By no means," laughed Bobby. "It's no where 
 near so absurdly simple as that," and he turned once 
 more to the prospectus which lay open on the desk 
 before them.
 
 216 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Before they were through with it there suddenly 
 erupted into the outer office, where Johnson and Ap- 
 plerod glared at each other day by day over their 
 books, a pandemonium of gabbling. Agnes, with a 
 little exclamation of dismay at the time she had 
 wasted, rose in a hurry, and immediately after she 
 passed through the door there bounded into the room 
 a rotund little German with enormous and extremely 
 thick glasses upon his knob of a nose, a grizzled 
 mustache that poked straight up on both sides of 
 that knob, and an absurd toupee that flared straight 
 out all around on top of the bald spot to which it was 
 pasted. Behind him trailed a pudgy man of so ex- 
 actly the Herr Professor's height and build that it 
 seemed as if they were cast in the same spherical 
 mold, but he was much younger and had jet black 
 hair and a jet black mustache of such tiny propor- 
 tions as to excite amazement and even awe. Still be- 
 hind him was an unusually large young woman, fully 
 a head taller than either of the two men, who had an 
 abundance of jet black hair, and was dressed in a 
 very rich robe and wrap, both of which were some- 
 what soiled and worn. 
 
 "Signor R-r-r-r-icardo, der grosse tenore Mees- 
 ter Burnit," introduced the rotund little German, 
 with a deep bow commensurate with the greatness of 
 the great tenor. "Signorina Car-r-r-avaggio Mees-
 
 SOME EMINENT ARTISTS 217 
 
 ter Burnit. I, Mees-ter Burnit, Ich bin Brofessor 
 Friihlingsvogel." 
 
 Bobby, for the lack of any other handy greeting, 
 merely bowed and smiled, whereupon Signorina Cara- 
 vaggio, stepping into a breach which otherwise would 
 certainly have been embarrassing, seated herself com- 
 fortably upon the edge of Bobby's desk and swung 
 one large but shapely foot while she explained 
 matters. 
 
 "It's like this, Mr. Burnit," she confidently began : 
 "when that dried-up little heathen, Matteo, who tried 
 to run the Neapolitan Grand Opera Company with 
 stage money, got us this far on a tour that is a dis- 
 grace to the profession, he had a sudden notion that 
 he needed ocean air ; so he took what few little dollars 
 were in the treasury and hopped right on into New 
 York. 
 
 "Here we are, then, at the place we were merely 
 'to make connections,' two hundred miles from 
 our next booking and without enough money among 
 us to buy a postage stamp. We haven't seen a cent 
 of salary for six weeks, and the only thing we can 
 do is to seize the props and scenery and costumes, see 
 if they can be sold, and disband, unless somebody 
 gallops to the rescue in a hurry. Professor Friih- 
 lingsvogel happened to know another Dutchman here 
 who conducts an orchestra at the Orpheum, and he
 
 218 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 sent us to you. He said you knew all the swell set 
 and could start a benefit going if anybody in town 
 could." 
 
 "Yes," said Bobby, smiling; "Schmirdonner tele- 
 phoned me just a few minutes ago that the Herr Pro- 
 fessor Friihlingsvogel would be up to see me, and 
 asked me to do what I could. How many of you are 
 there?" 
 
 "Seventy-three," promptly returned Signorina 
 Caravaggio, "and all hungry. Forty singers and an 
 orchestra of thirty seventy besides props and the 
 stage manager and Herr Friihlingsvogel, who is the 
 musical director." 
 
 "Where are you stopping?" asked Bobby, aghast 
 at the size of the contract that was offered him. 
 
 "We're not," laughed the great Italian songstress. 
 "We all went up and registered at a fourth-rate place 
 they call the Hotel Larken, but that's as far as we 
 got, for we were told before the ink was dry that 
 we'd have to come across before we got a single bis- 
 cuit ; so there they are, scattered about the S. R. O. 
 parts of that little two-by-twice hotel, waiting for 
 little me to trot out and find an angel. Are you it?" 
 
 "I can't really promise what I can do," hesitated 
 Bobby, who had never been able to refuse assistance 
 where it seemed to be needed; "but I'll run down to 
 the club and see some of the boys about getting up a
 
 SOME EMINENT ARTISTS 219 
 
 subscription concert for you. How much help will 
 you need?" 
 
 "Enough to land us on little old Manhattan 
 Island." 
 
 "And there are over seventy of you to feed and 
 take care of for, say, three days, and then to pay 
 railroad fares for," mused Bobby, a little startled as 
 the magnitude of the demand began to dawn upon 
 him. "Then there's the music-hall, advertising, print- 
 ing and I suppose a score of other incidentals. You 
 need quite a pile of money. However, I'll go down 
 to the club at lunch time and see what I can do for 
 you." 
 
 "I knew you would the minute I looked at you," 
 said the Signorina confidently, which was a compli- 
 ment or not, the way one looked at it. "But, say; 
 I've got a better scheme than that, one that will let 
 you make a little money instead of contributing. I 
 understand the Orpheum has next week dark, through 
 yesterday's failure of The Married Bachelor Comedy 
 Company. Why don't you get the Orpheum for us 
 and back our show for the week? We have twelve 
 operas in our repertoire. The scenery and props are 
 very poor, the costumes are only half-way decent and 
 the chorus is the rattiest-looking lot you ever saw in 
 your life; but they can sing. They went into the 
 discard on account of their faces, poor things. Sup-
 
 220 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 pose you come over and have a look. They'd melt you 
 to tears." 
 
 "That won't be necessary," hastily objected Bobby ; 
 "but I'll meet a lot of the fellows at lunch, and after- 
 ward I'll let you know." 
 
 "After lunch!" exclaimed the Signorina with a 
 most expressive placing of her hands over her belt, 
 whereat the Herr Professor and Der Grosse Tenore 
 both turned most wistfully to Bobby to see what ef- 
 fect this weighty plea might have upon him. 
 "Lunch !" she repeated. "If you would carry a fork- 
 full of steaming spaghetti into the Hotel Larken at 
 this minute you'd start a riot. Why, Mr. Burnit, if 
 you're going to do anything for us you've got to 
 get into action, because we've been up since seven 
 and we still want our breakfasts." 
 
 "Breakfast!" exclaimed Bobby, looking hastily 
 at his watch. It was now eleven-thirty. "Come on; 
 we'll go right over to the Larken, wherever that may 
 be," and he exhibited as much sudden haste as if he 
 had seen seventy people actually starving before his 
 very eyes. 
 
 Just as the quartette stepped out of the office, Biff 
 Bates, just coming in, bustled up to Bobby with: 
 
 "Can I see you just a minute, Bobby? Kid Mills 
 is coming around to my place this afternoon." 
 
 "Haven't time just now, Biff," said Bobby; "but
 
 SOME EMINENT ARTISTS 221 
 
 jump into the machine with us and I'll do the 'chauf- 
 fing.' That will make room for all of us. We can 
 talk on the way to the Hotel Larken. Do you know 
 where it is?" 
 
 "Me?" scorned Biff. "If there is an inch of this 
 old town I can't put my finger on in the dark, blind- 
 folded, I'll have that inch dug out and thrown away." 
 
 At the curb, with keen enjoyment of the joke of 
 it all, Bobby gravely introduced Mr. Biff Bates, ex- 
 champion middle-weight, to these imported artists, 
 but, very much to his surprise, Signorina Caravaggio 
 and Professor Bates struck up an instant and ani- 
 mated conversation anent Biff's well-known and 
 justly-famous victory over Slammer Young, and so 
 interested did they become in this conversation that 
 instead of BifPs sitting up in the front seat, as Bobby 
 had intended, the eminent instructor of athletics 
 manoeuvered the Herr Professor into that post of 
 honor and climbed into the tonneau with Signor Ri- 
 cardo and the Signorina, with the latter of whom he 
 talked most volubly all the way over, to the evidently 
 vast annoyance of Der Grosse Tenore. 
 
 The confusion of tongues must have been a very 
 tame and quiet affair as compared to the polyglot 
 chattering which burst upon Bobby's ears when he 
 entered the small lobby of the Hotel Larken. The 
 male members of the Neapolitan Grand Opera Com-
 
 222 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 pany, almost to a man, were smoking cigarettes. 
 There were swarthy little men and swarthy big men, 
 there seeming to be no medium sizes among them, 
 while the women were the most wooden-featured lot 
 that Bobby had ever encountered, and the entire crowd 
 was swathed in gay but dingy clothing of the most 
 nondescript nature. Realty, had Bobby not been 
 assured that they were grand opera singers he would 
 have taken them for a lot of immigrants, for they 
 had that same unhappy expression of worry. The 
 principals could be told from the chorus and the mem- 
 bers of the orchestra from the fact that they stood 
 aloof from the rest and from one another, gloomily 
 nursing their grievances that they, each one the most 
 illustrious member of the company, should thus be 
 put to inconvenience ! It was a monstrous thing that 
 they, the possessors of glorious voices which the en- 
 tire world should at once fall down and worship, 
 should be actually hungry and out of money! It 
 was, oh, unbelievable, atrocious, barbarous, positively 
 inhuman ! 
 
 With the entrance of the Signorina Caravaggio, 
 bearing triumphantly with her the neatly-dressed 
 and altogether money-like Bobby Burnit, one hundred 
 and forty wistful eyes, mostly black and dark brown, 
 were immediately focused in eager interest upon the 
 possible savior. Behind the desk, perplexed and dis-
 
 SOME EMINENT ARTISTS 223 
 
 tracted but still grimly firm, stood frowzy Widow 
 Larken herself, drawn and held to the post of duty 
 by this vast and unusual emergency. Not one room 
 had Madam Larken saved for all these alien warblers, 
 not one morsel of food had she loosed from her ca- 
 pacious kitchen ; and yet not one member of the com- 
 pany had she permitted to stray outside her doors 
 while Signorina Caravaggio and Signer Ricardo and 
 the Herr Professor Friihlingsvogel had gone out to 
 secure an angel, two stout porters being kept at the 
 front door to turn back the restless. If provision 
 could be made to pay the bills of this caravan, the 
 Widow Larken who was shaped like a pillow with 
 a string tied around it and wore a face like a huge, 
 underdone apple dumpling was too good a business 
 woman to overlook that opportunity. Bobby took 
 one sweeping glance at that advancing circle of one 
 hundred and forty eyes and turned to Widow Larken. 
 
 "I will be responsible for the hotel bills of these 
 people until further notice," said he. 
 
 The Widow Larken, looking intently at Bobby's 
 scarf-pin, relented no whit in her uncompromising 
 attitude. 
 
 "And who might you be?" she demanded, with a 
 calm brow and cold determination. 
 
 "I am Robert J. Burnit," said Bobby. "I'll give 
 you a written order if you like or a check."
 
 224 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 The Widow Larken's uncompromising expression 
 instantly melted, but she did not smile she grinned. 
 Bobby knew precisely the cause of that amused expres- 
 sion, but if he had needed an interpreter, he had one 
 at his elbow in the person of Biff Bates, who looked 
 up at him with a reflection of the same grin. 
 
 "They're all next to you, Bobby," he observed. 
 "The whole town knows that you're the real village 
 goat." 
 
 The Widow Larken did not answer Bobby directly. 
 She called back to a blue-overall-clad porter at the end 
 of the lobby: 
 
 "Open the dining-room doors, Michael." 
 
 Signorina Caravaggio immediately said a few gut- 
 tural words in German to Professor Friihlingsvogel, 
 a few limpid words in Italian to Signor Ricardo a 
 few crisp words in French to Madame Villenauve, a 
 nervous but rather attractive little woman with pierc- 
 ing black eyes. The singers of other languages did 
 not wait to be informed; they joined the general 
 stampede toward the ravishing paradise of midday 
 breakfast, and as the last of them vacated the lobby, 
 the principals no whit behind the humble members of 
 the chorus in crowding and jamming through that 
 doorway, Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. Only the 
 Signorina was left to him, and Bobby hesitated just 
 a moment as it occurred to him that, perhaps, a more
 
 SOME EMINENT ARTISTS 225 
 
 personal entertainment was expected by this eminent 
 songstress. Biff Bates, however, relieved him of his 
 dilemma. 
 
 "While you're gone down to see the boys at the 
 Idlers' Club," said Biff, "I'm going to take Miss 
 Carry Miss Miss " 
 
 "Caravaggio," interrupted the Signorina with a 
 repetition of a laugh which had convinced Bobby that, 
 after all, she might be a singer, though her speaking 
 voice gave no trace of it. 
 
 "Carrie for mine," insisted Biff with a confident 
 grin. "I'm going to take Miss Carrie out to lunch 
 some place where they don't serve prunes. I guess 
 the Hotel Spender will do for us." 
 
 Bobby surveyed Biff with an indulgent smile. 
 
 "Thanks," said he. "That will give me time to 
 see what I can do." 
 
 "You take my advice, Mr. Burnit," earnestly inter- 
 posed the Signorina. "Don't bother with your 
 friends. Go and see the manager of the Orpheum 
 and ask him about that open date. Ask him if he 
 thinks it wouldn't be a good investment for you to 
 back us." 
 
 Biff, the conservative ; Biff, whose vote was invari- 
 ably for the negative on any proposition involving an 
 investment of Bobby's funds, unexpectedly added his 
 weight for the affirmative.
 
 226 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "It's a good stunt, Bobby. Go to it," he coun- 
 seled, and the Caravaggio smiled down at him. 
 
 Again Bobby laughed. 
 
 "All right, Biff," said he. "I'll hunt up the man- 
 ager of the Orpheum right away." 
 
 In his machine he conveyed Biff and the prima 
 donna to the Hotel Spender, and then drove to the 
 Orpheum.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 WITH THE RELUCTANT CONSENT OF AGNES, BOBBY BE- 
 COMES A PATEON OF MUSIC 
 
 THE manager of the Orpheum was a strange 
 evolution. He was a man who had spent a 
 lifetime in the show business, running first 
 a concert hall that "broke into the papers" every 
 Sunday morning with an account of from two to seven 
 fights the night before, then an equally disreputable 
 "burlesque" house, the broad attractions of which 
 appealed to men and boys only. To this, as he made 
 money, he added the cheapest and most blood-curdling 
 melodrama theater in town, then a "regular" house 
 of the second grade. In his career he had endured 
 two divorce cases of the most unattractive sort, and, 
 among quiet and conventional citizens, was supposed 
 to have horns and a barbed tail that snapped sparks 
 where it struck on the pavement. When he first pur- 
 chased the Orpheum Theater, the most exclusive play- 
 house of the city, he began to appear in its lobby 
 every night in a dinner-coat or a dress-suit, silk top-
 
 228 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 per and all, with an almost modest diamond stud in 
 his white shirt-front; and ladies, as they came in, 
 asked in awed whispers of their husbands: "Is that 
 Dan Spratt?" Some few who had occasion to meet 
 him went away gasping: "Why, the man seems 
 really nice !" Others of "the profession," about whom 
 the public never knew, spoke his name with tears of 
 gratitude. 
 
 Mr. Spratt, immersed in troubles of his own, 
 scarcely looked up as Bobby entered, and only grunted 
 in greeting. 
 
 "Spratt," began Bobby, who knew the man quite 
 well through "sporting" events engineered by Biff 
 Bates, "the Neapolitan Grand Opera Company is 
 stranded here, and " 
 
 "Where are they?" interrupted Spratt eagerly, all 
 his abstraction gone. 
 
 "At the Hotel Larken," began Bobby again. 
 j > 
 
 "Have they got their props and scenery?" 
 
 "Everything, I understand," said Bobby. "I came 
 around to see you " 
 
 "Who's running the show?" demanded Spratt. 
 
 "Their manager decamped with the money with 
 what little there was," explained Bobby, "and they 
 came to me by accident. I understand you have an 
 open date next week."
 
 A PATRON OF MUSIC 229 
 
 "It's not open now," declared Spratt. "The date 
 is filled with the Neapolitan Grand Opera Company." 
 
 "There doesn't seem to be much use of my talking, 
 then," said Bobby, smiling. 
 
 "Not much," said Spratt. "They're a good com- 
 pany, but I've noticed from the reports that they've 
 been badly managed. The Dago that brought them 
 over didn't know the show business in this country 
 and tried to run the circus himself; and, of course, 
 they've gone on the rocks. It's great luck that they 
 landed here. I just heard a bit ago that they were in 
 town. I suppose they're flat broke." 
 
 "Why, yes," said Bobby. "I just went up to the 
 Hotel Larken and said I'd be responsible for their 
 hotel bill." 
 
 "Oh," said Spratt. "Then you're backing them 
 for their week here." 
 
 "Well, I'm not quite sure about that," hesitated 
 Bobby. 
 
 "If you don't, I will," offered Spratt. "There's 
 a long line of full-dress Willies here that'll draw their 
 week's wages in advance to attend grand opera in 
 cabs. 'At two and a half for the first sixteen rows 
 they'll pack the house for the week, and every dia- 
 mond in the hock-shops will get an airing for the oc- 
 casion. But you saw it first, Burnit, and I won't 
 interfere."
 
 230 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Well, I don't know," Bobby again hesitated. "I 
 haven't fully " 
 
 "Go ahead," urged Spratt heartily. "It's your 
 pick-up and I'll get mine. Hey, Spencer !" 
 
 A thin young man, with hair so light that he seemed 
 to have no hair at all and no eyebrows, came in. 
 
 "We've booked the Neapolitan Grand Opera Com- 
 pany for next week. Have they got Caravaggio and 
 Ricardo with them?" he asked, turning abruptly 
 to Bobby. 
 
 Bobby, with a smile, nodded his head. 
 
 "All right, Spence; get busy on some press stuff 
 for the afternoon papers. You can fake notices 
 about them from what you know. Use two-inch 
 streamers clear across the pages, then you can get 
 some fresh stuff and the repertoire to-night for the 
 morning papers. Play it up strong, Spence. Use 
 plenty of space ; and, say, tell Billy to get ready for a 
 three o'clock rehearsal. Now, Burnit, let's go up to 
 the Larken and make arrangements." 
 
 "We might just as well wait an hour," counseled 
 Bobby. "The only one I found in the crowd who 
 could speak English was Signorina Caravaggio." 
 
 "I know her," said Spratt. "Her other name's 
 Nora McGinnis. Smart woman, too, and straight 
 as a string; and sing! Why, that big ox can sing a 
 bird off a tree."
 
 A PATRON OF MUSIC 231 
 
 "She's just gone over to lunch with Biff Bates at 
 the Spender," observed Bobby, "and we'd better wait 
 for her. She seems to be the leading spirit." 
 
 "Of course she is. Let's go right over to the 
 Spender." 
 
 Biff Bates did not seem overly pleased when his 
 tete-a-tete luncheon was interrupted by Bobby and 
 Mr. Spratt, but the Signorina Nora very quickly 
 made it apparent that business was business. Ar- 
 rangements were promptly made to attach the car- 
 load of effects for back salaries due the company, and 
 to lease these to Bobby for the week for a nominal 
 sum. Bobby was to pay the regular schedule of sala- 
 ries for that week and make what profit he could. A 
 rehearsal of Carmen was to be called that afternoon 
 at three, and a repertoire was arranged. 
 
 Feeling very much exhilarated after all this, Bobby 
 drove out in his automobile after lunch to see Agnes 
 Elliston. He found that young lady and Aunt Con- 
 stance about to start for a drive, their carriage being 
 already at the door, but without any ceremony he 
 bundled them into his machine instead. 
 
 "Purely as my trustee," he explained, "Agnes must 
 inspect my new business venture." 
 
 Aunt Constance smiled. 
 
 "The trusteeship of Agnes hasn't done you very 
 much good so far," she observed. "As a matter of
 
 232 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 fact, if she wanted to build up a reputation as an 
 expert trustee, I don't think she could accomplish 
 much by printing in her circulars the details of her 
 past stewardship." 
 
 "I don't want her to work up a reputation as a 
 trustee," retorted Bobby. "She suits me just as she 
 is, and I'm inclined to thank the governor for having 
 loaded her down with the job." 
 
 "I'm becoming reconciled to it myself," admitted 
 Agnes, smiling up at him. "Really, I have great 
 faith that one day you will learn how to take care of 
 money if the money holds out that long. What is 
 the new venture, Bobby ?" 
 
 He grinned quite cheerfully. 
 
 "I am about to become an angel," he said quite 
 solemnly. 
 
 Aunt Constance shook her head. 
 
 "No, Bobby," she said kindly; "there are spots, 
 you know, where angels fear to tread." 
 
 But Agnes took the declaration with no levity 
 whatever. 
 
 "You don't mean in a theatrical sense?" she 
 inquired. 
 
 "In a theatrical sense," he insisted. "I am about 
 to back the Neapolitan Grand Opera Company." 
 
 "Why, Bobby!" objected Agnes, aghast. "You 
 surely don't mean it! I never thought you would
 
 A PATRON OF MUSIC 233 
 
 contemplate anything so preposterous as that. I 
 thought it was to be only a benefit !" 
 
 "It's only a temporary arrangement," he reassured 
 her, laughing that he had been taken so seriously. 
 "I'm arranging so that they can earn their way out 
 of town ; that's all. I am taking you down now to see 
 their first rehearsal." 
 
 "I don't care to go," she declared, in a tone so 
 piqued that Bobby turned to her in mute astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 Aunt Constance laughed at his look of utter per- 
 plexity. 
 
 "How little you understand, Bobby," she said. 
 ''Don't you see that Agnes is merely jealous?" 
 
 "Indeed not!" Agnes indignantly denied. "That 
 is an idea more absurd than the fact that Bobby 
 should go into such an enterprise at all. However, 
 since I lay myself open to such a suspicion I shall 
 offer no further objection to going." 
 
 Bobby looked at her curiously and then he carefully 
 refrained from chuckling, for Aunt Constance, 
 though joking, had told the truth. Instant visions 
 of dazzling sopranos, of mezzos and contraltos, of 
 angelic voices and of vast beauty and exquisite gown- 
 ing, had flashed in appalling procession before her 
 mental vision. The idea, in the face of the appalling 
 actuality, was so rich that Bobby pursued it no
 
 234 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 further lest he spoil it, and talked about the weather 
 and equally inane topics the rest of the way. 
 
 It was not until they had turned into the narrow 
 alley at the side of the Orpheum, and from that to the 
 still more narrow alley at its rear, that the zest of 
 adventure began to make amends to Agnes for cer- 
 tain disagreeable moments of the ride. At the stage 
 door a particularly bewildered-looking man with a 
 rolling eye and a weak jaw, rendered limp and help- 
 less by the polyglot aliens who had flocked upon him, 
 strickenly let them in, to grope their way, amid what 
 seemed an inextricable confusion, but was in reality 
 the perfection of orderliness, upon the dim stage, 
 beyond which stretched, in vast emptiness, the big, 
 black auditorium. Upon the stage, chattering in 
 shrill voices, were the forty members of the company, 
 still in their queer clothing, while down in front, 
 where shaded lights seeming dull and discouraged 
 amid all the surrounding darkness streamed upon 
 the music, were the members of the orchestra, chat- 
 tering just as volubly. The general note was quite 
 different in pitch from the one Bobby had heard that 
 morning, for since he had seen them the members 
 of the organization had been fed, and life looked 
 cheerful. 
 
 Wandering at a loss among these people, and try- 
 ing in the dim twilight to find some face that he knew,
 
 A PATRON OF MUSIC 235 
 
 the ears of Bobby and his party were suddenly as- 
 sailed by an extremely harsh and penetrating voice 
 which shouted: 
 
 "Clear!" 
 
 This was accompanied by a sharp clap from a pair 
 of very broad hands. The chattering suddenly took 
 on a rapid crescendo, ascending a full third in the 
 scale and then dying abruptly in a little high falsetto 
 shriek; and Bobby, with a lady upon either arm, 
 found his little trio immediately alone in the center 
 of the stage, a row of dim footlights cutting off 
 effectually any view into the vast emptiness of the 
 auditorium. 
 
 "Hey, you; clear!" came the harsh voice again, 
 accompanied by another sharp clap of the hands, and 
 a bundle of intense fighting energy bounced out from 
 the right tormentor wing, in the shape of a gaunt, 
 fiercely-mustached and entirely bald man of about 
 forty-five, who appeared perpetually to be in the last 
 stages of distraction. 
 
 "Who do you weesh to see?" demanded the gaunt 
 man, in a very decided foreign accent. He had made 
 a very evident attempt to be quite polite indeed, and 
 forgiving of people who did not know enough to 
 spring for the wings at the sound of that magic 
 word, "Clear!" 
 
 Any explanations that Bobby might have tried to
 
 236 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 make were happily prevented by a voice from the 
 yawning blackness a quiet voice, a voice of author- 
 ity, the voice of Mr. Spratt. 
 
 "Come right down in front here, Burnit. Jimmy, 
 show the gentleman how to get down." 
 
 "Thees way," snapped the gaunt man, with evident 
 relief but no abatement whatever of his briskness, 
 and he very hastily walked over to the right wings, 
 where Jimmy, the house electrician, piloted the trio 
 with equal relief through the clustered mass of sing- 
 ers to the door behind the boxes. As they emerged 
 into the auditorium the raucous voice of the gaunt 
 man was heard to shout: "All ready now. Carmen 
 all ze way through." An apparent repetition of 
 which statement he immediately made with equal 
 raucousness in two or three languages. There was a 
 call to Caravaggio in English, to Ricardo and the 
 Signors Fivizzano and Rivaroli in Italian, to Messrs. 
 Philippi and Schaerbeeken in Spanish and Dutch, to 
 Madam Villenauve in French, to Madam Kadanoff in 
 Russian, and to Mademoiselle Torok in Hungarian, 
 to know if they were ready; then, in rough but 
 effective German, he informed the Herr Professor 
 down in the orchestra that all was prepared, clapped 
 his hands, cried "Overture," and immediately plunged 
 to the right upper entrance, marked by two chairs, 
 where, with shrill objurgations, he began instructing
 
 A PATRON OF MUSIC 237 
 
 and drilling the Soldiers' Chorus out of certain re- 
 membered awkwardnesses, as Herr Friihlingsvogel's 
 baton fell for the overture. 
 
 Shorn of all the glamor that scenic environment, 
 light effects and costume could give them, it was a 
 distinct shock to Agnes to gaze in wondering horror 
 from each one of those amazing faces to the other, 
 and when the cigarette girls trooped out, amazement 
 gave way to downright consternation. Nevertheless, 
 she cheered up considerably, and the apex of her 
 cheerfulness was reached when the oversized Sig- 
 norina Caravaggio sang, very musically, however, 
 the role of the petite and piquant Carmen. It was 
 then that, sitting by Bobby in the darkness, Agnes 
 observed with a sigh of content: 
 
 "Your trustee quite approves, Bobby. I don't 
 mind being absolutely truthful for once in my life. 
 I was a little jealous. But how could I be? Really, 
 their voices are fine." 
 
 Mr. Spratt, too, was of that opinion, and he 
 came back to Bobby to say so most emphatically. 
 
 "They'll do," said he. "After the first night 
 they'll have this town crazy. If the seat sale don't go 
 right for Monday we'll pack the house with paper, 
 and the rest of the week will go big. Just hear that 
 Ricardo ! The little bit of a sawed-off toad sings like 
 a canary. If you don't look at 'em, they're great."
 
 238 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 They were superb. From the throats of that ill- 
 favored chorus there came divine harmony, smooth, 
 evenly-balanced, exhilarating, almost flawless, and as 
 the great musical poem of passion unfolded and the 
 magnificent aria of Don Jose was finished in the sec- 
 ond act, the little group of listeners down in front 
 burst into involuntary applause, to which there was 
 but one dissenting voice. This voice, suddenly evolv- 
 ing out of the darkness at Bobby's side, ejaculated 
 with supreme disgust: 
 
 "Well, what do you think of that! Why, that fat 
 little fishworm of a Dago is actually gone bug-house 
 over Miss McGinnis," a fact which had been obvious 
 to all of them the minute small Ricardo began to 
 sing his wonderful love song to large Caravaggio. 
 
 The rest of them had found only amusement in the 
 fact, but to Biff Bates there was nothing funny about 
 this. He sat in speechless disapproval throughout 
 the balance of that much-interrupted performance, 
 wherein Professor Friihlingsvogel, now and then, 
 stopped his music with a crash to shriek an excited 
 direction that it was all wrong, that it was execrable, 
 that it was a misdemeanor, a crime, a murder to sing 
 it in that way ! The passage must be all sung over ; 
 or, at other times, the gaunt stage director, whose 
 name was Monsieur Noire, would rush with a hoarse 
 howl down to Herr Professor, order him to stop the
 
 A PATRON OF MUSIC 239 
 
 music, and, turning, berate some unfortunate per- 
 former who had defied the conventions of grand opera 
 by acting quite naturally. On the whole, however, it 
 was a very creditable performance, and Bobby's ad- 
 visers gave the project their unqualified approval. 
 
 "It is really a commendable tiling," Aunt Con- 
 stance complacently announced, "to encourage music 
 of this order, and to furnish such a degree of culti- 
 vation for the masses." 
 
 It was a worthy project indeed. As for the com- 
 pany itself there could be no question that it was a 
 good one. No one expected acting in grand opera, 
 no one expected that the performers would be phys- 
 ically adaptable to their parts. The voice! The 
 voice was all. Even Agnes admitted that it was a 
 splendid thing to be a patron of the fine arts; but 
 Bobby, in his profound new wisdom and his thorough 
 conversion to strictly commercial standards, said with 
 vast iconoclasm: 
 
 "You are overlooking the main point. I am not so 
 anxious to become a patron of the fine arts as I am 
 to make money," with which terrible heresy he left 
 them at home, with a thorough understanding that he 
 was quite justified in his new venture; though next 
 morning, when he confided the fact to Johnson, that 
 worthy, with a sigh, presented him with an appropri- 
 ate missive from among those in the gray envelopes
 
 240 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 left in his care by the late John Burnit. It was in- 
 scribed : 
 
 To My Son Robert, Upon His Deciding to Back a 
 Theatrical Venture 
 
 "Sooner or later, every man thinks it would be a 
 fine thing to run a show, and the earlier in life it hap- 
 pens the sooner a man will have it out of his system. 
 I tried it once myself, and I know. So good luck to 
 you, my boy, and here's hoping that you don't get 
 stung too badly."
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 STILL WITH THE EELUCTANT CONSENT OF AGNES, 
 BOBBY INVESTS IN THE FINE AETS 
 
 THAT week's "season of grand opera" was an 
 unqualified success, following closely the 
 lines laid down by the experienced Mr. 
 Spratt. Caravaggio and Ricardo and Philippi and 
 Villenauve became household words, after the Monday 
 night performance of Carmen, and for the balance 
 of the week shining carriages rolled up to the entrance 
 of the Orpheum, disgorging load after load of high- 
 hatted gentlemen and long-plumed ladies. Before the 
 end of the engagement it was definitely known that 
 Bobby's investment would yield a profit, even deduct- 
 ing for the days of idleness during which he had been 
 compelled to support the rehearsing company. The 
 powers of darkness thereupon set vigorously to work 
 upon him to carry the company on through the rest 
 of its season. 
 
 It was then that the storm broke. Against his 
 going further with the company Agnes Elliston in- 
 terposed an objection so decided and so unflattering
 
 242 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 that the entente cordlale at the Elliston home was 
 strained dangerously near to the breaking point, and 
 in this she was aided and abetted by Aunt Constance, 
 who ridiculed him, and by Uncle Dan Elliston, who 
 took him confidentially for a grave and hardheaded 
 remonstrance. Chalmers, Johnson, and even Apple- 
 rod wrestled with him in spirit; his friends at the 
 Idlers' Club "guyed" him unmercifully, and even Biff 
 Bates, though his support was earnestly sought by 
 the Signorina Caravaggio, also counseled him roughly 
 against it, and through it all Bobby was made to feel 
 that he was a small boy who had proposed to eat a 
 peck of green apples and then go in swimming in dog- 
 days. Another note from his father, handed to him 
 by the faithful and worried Johnson, was the deciding 
 straw : 
 
 To My Son Robert, About That Theatrical Venture 
 
 "When a man who knows nothing of the business 
 backs a show, there's usually a woman at the bottom of 
 it and that kind of woman is mostly rank poison to 
 a normal man, even if she is a good woman. No butter- 
 fly ever goes back into its chrysalis and becomes a 
 grub again. Let birds of a feather flock together, 
 Bobby." 
 
 That unfortunate missive, for once shooting so wide 
 the mark, pushed Bobby over the edge. There was
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 243 
 
 a streak of stubbornness in him which, well developed 
 and turned into proper channels, was likely to be very 
 valuable, but until he learned to use that stubborn- 
 ness in the right way it bade fair to plunge him into 
 more difficulties than he could extricate himself from 
 with profit. Even Agnes, reading that note, indig- 
 nantly agreed with Bobby that he was being unjustly 
 misread. 
 
 "It is absurd," he explained to her. "This is the 
 first dividend-paying investment I have been able to 
 make so far, and I'm going to keep it up just as long 
 as I can make money out of it. I'd be very foolish if 
 I didn't. Besides, this is just a little in-between flyer, 
 while I'm conservatively waiting for a good, legiti- 
 mate opening. It can take, at most, but a very small 
 part of my two hundred and fifty thousand. 
 
 Agnes, though defending him against his father, 
 was still reluctant about the trip, but suddenly, with 
 a curious smile, she withdrew all objections and even 
 urged him to go ahead. 
 
 "Bobby," said she, still with that curious smile and 
 strangely shining eyes, and putting both her hands 
 upon his shoulders, "I see that you must go ahead 
 with this. I I guess it will be good for you. Some- 
 how, I think that this is to be your last folly, that 
 you are really learning that the world is not all polo 
 and honor-bets. So go ahead and I'll wait here."
 
 244 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BUBNIT 
 
 He could not know how much that hurt her. He 
 only knew, after she had talked more lightly of his 
 trip, that he had her full and free consent, and, 
 highly elated with his first successful business ven- 
 ture, he took up the contracts of the Neapolitan 
 Grand Opera Company where Signor Matteo, the de- 
 camped manager and producer, had dropped them. 
 The members of the company having attached the 
 scenery and effects for back salaries, sold them to 
 Bobby for ten thousand dollars, and he immediately 
 found himself confronted by demands for settlements, 
 with the alternative of damage suits, from the two 
 cities in which the company had been booked for the 
 two past weeks. 
 
 Had Bobby not bound himself irrevocably to con- 
 tracts which made him liable for the salaries of 
 every member of this company for the next twenty 
 weeks, he would have withdrawn instantly at the 
 first hint of these suits ; but, now that he was in for 
 it, he promptly compromised them at a rate which 
 made Spratt furious. 
 
 "If I'd thought," said Spratt angrily in the priv- 
 acy of the Orpheum office, "that you were sucker 
 enough to get roped in for the full season, I'd have 
 tossed you out of the running for this week. This 
 game is a bigger gamble than the Stock Exchange. 
 The smartest producers in the business never know
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 245 
 
 when they have a winner or a loser. More than 
 that, while all actors are hard to handle, of all the 
 combinations on earth, a grand opera company is 
 the worst. I'll bet a couple of cold bottles that 
 before you're a week on the road you'll have leaks 
 in your dirigible over some crazy dramatic stunts 
 that are not in the book of any opera of the Nea- 
 politan repertoire." 
 
 The prediction was so true that it was proved 
 that very night, which was Friday, during the repe* 1 
 tition of Carmen. It seemed that Biff Bates, by 
 means of the supreme dominance of the Caravaggio, 
 had been made free of the stage, a rare privilege, 
 and one that enabled Biff to spend his time, under 
 unusual and romantic circumstances, very much in 
 the company of the Celtic Signorina; all of which 
 was very much to the annoyance, distress and fury 
 of Signor Ricardo, especially on Carmen night. At 
 all other times the great Ricardo thought very well 
 indeed of the Signorina Nora, only being in any 
 degree near to unfaithfulness when, on 'Aida nights, 
 he sang to vivacious little Madam Villenauve ; but on 
 Carmen nights he was devotedly, passionately, 
 madly in love with the divine Car-r-r-r-avaggio ! 
 Else how could he sing the magnificent second act 
 aria? Life without her on those nights would be a 
 hollow mockery, the glance of any possible rival in
 
 246 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 her direction a desecration. Why, he even had to 
 restrain himself to keep from doing actual damage 
 to Philippi, who, though on the shady side of forty- 
 five, still sang a most dashing Escamillo; nor was 
 his jealousy less poignant because Philippi and Cara- 
 vaggio were sworn enemies. 
 
 Thus it may be understood by any one, at least, 
 who has ever loved ecstatically and fervidly and even 
 hectically, like the great Ricardo how on Monday 
 and Wednesday nights and the Thursday matinee, 
 all of which were Caravaggio performances, he re- 
 sented Biff's presence. From dark corners he more 
 darkly watched them chatting in frank enjoyment 
 of each other's company ; he made unexpected darts 
 in front of their very eyes to greet them with the 
 most alarming scowls; and because he insolently 
 brushed the shoulder of the peaceably inclined and 
 self -sure Biff upon divers occasions, and Biff made 
 no sign of resentment, he imagined that Biff trem- 
 bled in his boots whenever he noted the approach 
 of the redoubtable Ricardo with his infinitesimal but 
 ferocious mustachios. Great, then, was his wonder, 
 to say nothing of his rage, when Biff, after all the 
 scowls and shoulderings that he had received on 
 Thursday, actually came around for Friday night's 
 Carmen performance! 
 
 Even before the fierce Ricardo had gone into his
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 247 
 
 dressing-room he was already taking upon himself 
 the deadly character of Don Jose, and his face 
 surged red with fury when he saw Biff Bates, gaily 
 laughing as if no doom impended, come in at the 
 stage door with the equally gay and care-free Cara- 
 vaggio. But after Signor Ricardo had donned the 
 costume and the desperateness of the brigadier Don 
 Jose it was then that the fury sank into his soul! 
 And that fury boiled and seethed as, during the first 
 and second acts, he found in the wings Signorina 
 Car-r-r-r-r-r-avaggio absorbed in pleasant but very 
 significant chat with his deadly enemy, the crude, un- 
 musical, inartistic, soulless Biffo de Bates-s-s-s ! But, 
 ah! There was another act to come, the third act, 
 at the beginning of which the property man handed 
 him the long, sharp, wicked-looking, bloodthirsty 
 knife with which he was to fight Escamillo, and with 
 which in the fourth act he was to kill Carmen. The 
 mere possession of that knife wrought the great 
 tenor's soul to gory tragedy ; so much so that imme- 
 diately after the third act curtain calls he rushed 
 directly to the spot where he knew the contemptible 
 Signor Biffo de Bates-s-s-s to be standing, and with 
 shrill Latin imprecations flourished that keen, glisten- 
 ing blade before the eyes of the very much astounded 
 Biff. 
 
 For a moment, thoroughly incredulous, Biff re-
 
 248 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BTJRNIT 
 
 fused to believe it, until a second demonstration com- 
 pelled him to acknowledge that the great Ricardo 
 actually meant threatening things toward himself. 
 When this conviction forced its way upon him, Biff 
 calmly reached out, and, with a grip very much like 
 a bear-trap, seized Signor Ricardo by the forearm 
 of the hand which held the knife. With his unen- 
 gaged hand Biff then smacked the Signor Ricardo 
 right severely on the wrist. 
 
 "You don't mean it, you know, Sig-nor Garlic," 
 he calmly observed. "If I thought you did I'd 
 smack you on both wrists. Why, you little red 
 balloon, I ain't afraid of any mutt on earth that 
 carries a knife like that, as long as I got my back 
 to the wall." 
 
 Still holding the putty-like Signor by the forearm, 
 he delicately abstracted from his clasp the huge knife, 
 and, folding it up gravely, handed it back to him; 
 then deliberately he turned his back on the Signor 
 and pushed his way through the delightedly horror- 
 stricken emotionalists who had gathered at the fray, 
 and strolled over to where Signorina Caravaggio had 
 stood an interested and mirth-shaken observer. 
 
 "You mustn't think all Italians are like that, Biff," 
 she said, her first impulse, as always, to see justice 
 done; "but singers are a different breed. I don't 
 think he's bluffing, altogether. If he got a real good
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 249 
 
 chance some place in the dark, and was sure that he 
 wouldn't be caught, he might use a stiletto on you." 
 
 "If he ever does Til slap his forehead," said Biff. 
 "But say, he uses that cleaver again in the show?" 
 
 The Signorina Nora shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "He's supposed to stab me with it in this next 
 act." 
 
 "He is!" exclaimed Biff. "Well, just so he don't 
 make any mistake I'm going over and paste him 
 one." 
 
 It was not necessary, for Signer Ricardo, after 
 studying the matter over and seeing no other way 
 out of it, proceeded to have a fit. No one, not even 
 the illustrious Signer, could tell just how much of 
 that fit was deliberate and artificial, and just how 
 much was due to an overwrought sensitive organiza- 
 tion, but certain it was that the Signer Ricardo was 
 quite unable to go on with the performance, and 
 Monsieur Noire himself, as agitated as a moment 
 before the great Ricardo had been, frantically rushed 
 up to Biff and grabbed him roughly by the shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 "Too long," shrieked he, "we have let you be an- 
 noying the artists, by reason of the Caravaggio. 
 But now you shall do the skidooing." 
 
 With a laugh Biff looked back over his shoulder 
 at the Caravaggio, and permitted Monsieur Noire
 
 250 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 to eject him bodily from the stage door upon the 
 alley. 
 
 The next morning, owing to the prompt action 
 and foresightedness of Spratt, all the papers con- 
 tained the very pretty story that the great Ricardo 
 had succumbed to his own intensity of emotions after 
 the third act of Carmen, and had been unable to go 
 on, giving way to the scarcely less great Signor 
 Dulceo. That same morning Bobby was confronted 
 by the first of a long series of similar dilemmas. 
 The Signorina Caravaggio must leave the company 
 or Signor Ricardo would do so. No stage was big 
 enough to hold the two ; moreover, Ricardo meant to 
 have the heart's blood of Signor Biffo de Bates-s-s-s ! 
 
 With a sigh, Bobby, out of his ignorance and inde- 
 pendence, took the only possible course to preserve 
 peace, and emphatically told Signor Ricardo to pack 
 up and go as quickly as possible, which he went 
 away vowing to do. Naturally the great tenor 
 thought better of it after that, and though he had 
 already been dropped from the cast of II Trovatore 
 on Saturday afternoon, he reported just the same. 
 And he went on with the company. 
 
 It was not until they went upon the road, how- 
 ever, that Bobby fully realized what a lot of irre- 
 sponsible, fretful, peevish children he had upon his 
 hands. With the exception of serene Nora McGin-
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 251 
 
 nis, every one of the principals was at daggers 
 drawn with all the others, sulking over the least ad- 
 vantage obtained by any one else, and accepting ad- 
 vantage of their own as only a partial payment of 
 their supreme rank. The one most at war with her 
 own world was Madam Villenauve, whose especial bete 
 noire was the MeeGeenees, whom, by no possibility, 
 could she ever under any circumstance be induced to 
 call Caravaggio. 
 
 On the second day of their next engagement, as 
 Bobby strode through the corridor of the hotel, 
 shortly after luncheon, he was stopped by Madam 
 Villenauve, who had been waiting for him in the door 
 of her room. She was herself apparently just dress- 
 ing to go out, for her coiffure was made and she had 
 on a short underskirt, a kimono-like dressing- jacket 
 and her street shoes. 
 
 "I wish to speak wiz you on some beezness, Mees- 
 ter Burnit," she told him abruptly, and with an 
 imperatively beckoning hand stepped back with a bow 
 for him to enter. 
 
 With just a moment of surprised hesitation he 
 stepped into the room, whereupon the Villenauve 
 promptly closed the door. A week before Bobby 
 would have been a trifle astonished by this proceed- 
 ing, but in that week he had seen so many examples 
 of unconscious unconventionalities in and about the
 
 252 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 dressing-rooms and at the hotel, that he had read- 
 justed his point of view to meet the peculiar way of 
 life of these people, and, as usual with readjustments, 
 had readjusted himself too far. He found the room 
 in a litter, with garments of all sorts cast about in 
 reckless disorder. 
 
 "I have been seeing you last night," began Ma- 
 dam Villenauve, shaking her finger at him archly 
 as she swept some skirts off a chair for him to sit 
 down, and then took her place before her dressing- 
 table, where she added the last deft touch to her 
 coiffure. "I have been seeing you smiling at ze 
 reedeec'lous Carmen. Oh, la, la ! Carmen !" she 
 shrilled. "It is I, monsieur, I zat am ze Carmen. 
 It was zis Matteo, the scoundrel who run away wiz 
 our money, zat allow le Ricardo to say whom he like 
 to sing to for Carmen. Ricardo ees in loaf wiz la 
 MeeGeenees. Le Ricardo is a fool, so zis Ricardo 
 sing Carmen ever tarn to ze great, grosse monstair 
 MeeGeenees ; an' ever'body zey laugh. Ze chorus 
 laugh, ze principals laugh, le Monsieur Noire he 
 laugh, even zat Friihlingsvogel zat have no humair, 
 he laugh, an' ze audience laugh, an' las' night I am 
 seeing you laugh. Ees eet not so? Mais! It is 
 absurd! It is reedeec'lous. Le Ricardo make fool 
 over la MeeGeenees. 7 sing ze Carmen! I am ze 
 Carmen! You hear me sing Ai'da? Eet ees zat way.
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 253' 
 
 I sing Carmen. Now I s'all sing Carmen again! 
 Ees eet not ?" 
 
 As Madam Villenauve talked, punctuating her re- 
 marks with quick, impatient little gestures, she jerked 
 off her dressing- jacket and threw it on the floor, and 
 Bobby saved himself from panic by reminding him- 
 self that her frank anatomical display was, in the 
 peculiar ethics of these people, no more to be noticed 
 than if she were in an evening gown, which was very 
 reasonable, after all, once you understood the code. 
 Still voicing her indignation at having been dis- 
 placed in the role of Carmen by the utterly impos- 
 sible and preposterous Caravaggio, she caught up 
 her waist and was about to slip it on, while Bobby, 
 with an amused smile, reflected that presently he 
 would no doubt be nonchalantly requested to hook 
 it in the back, when some one tried the door-knob. 
 A knock followed and Madam Villenauve went to 
 the door. 
 
 | "Who ees it?" she asked with her hand on the 
 knob. 
 
 "It is I; Monsieur Noire," was the reply. 
 
 "Oh, la, come in, zen," she invited, and threw open 
 the door. 
 
 Monsieur Noire entered, but, finding Bobby in 
 the chair by the dresser, stopped uncertainly in the 
 doorway.
 
 254 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Oh, come on een," she gaily invited; "we are all 
 ze good friends ; oui?" 
 
 It appeared that Monsieur Noire came in all po- 
 liteness, yet with rigid intention, to inquire about 
 a missing piece of music from the score of Les 
 Huguenots, and Madam Villenauve, in all politeness 
 and yet with much indignation, assured him that 
 she did not have it ; whereupon Monsieur Noire, with 
 all politeness but cold insistence, demanded that she 
 look for it; whereupon Madam Villenauve, though 
 once more protesting that she had it not, in all polite- 
 ness and yet with considerable asperity, declared 
 that she would not search for it; whereupon Mon- 
 sieur Noire, observing the piece of music in question 
 peeping out from beneath a conglomerate pile of 
 newspapers, clothing and toilet articles, laid hands 
 upon it and departed. Madam Villenauve, entirely 
 unruffled now that it was all over, but still chatter- 
 ing away with great volubility about the crime of 
 Carmen, finished her dressing and bade Bobby hook 
 the back of her waist, and by sheer calmness and 
 certainty of intention forced him to accompany her 
 over to rehearsal. 
 
 Whatever annoyance he might have felt over this 
 was lost in his amusement when he reached the the- 
 ater in finding Biff Bates upon the stage waiting 
 for him ; and Biff, while waiting, was quite excusably
 
 A FINE ARTS INVESTMENT 255 
 
 whiling the time away with the adorable Miss Mc- 
 Ginnis. 
 
 "You see, Young Fitz lives here," Biff brazenly 
 explained, "and I run up to see him about that ex- 
 hibition night I'm going to have at the gym. I'm 
 going to have him go on with Kid Jeffreys." 
 
 "Biff," said Bobby warmly, "I want to congratu- 
 late you on your business enterprise. Have you seen 
 Young Fitz yet?" 
 
 "Well, no," confessed Biff. "I just got here about 
 an hour ago. I didn't know your hotel, but it was 
 a cinch from the bills to tell where the show was, 
 so I came right around to the theater to see you first." 
 
 "Exactly," admitted Bobby. "Do you expect to 
 see Young Fitz?" 
 
 "Well, maybe, if I get time," said Biff with a 
 sheepish grin. "Just now I'm going out for a drive 
 with Miss McGinnis." 
 
 "Caravaggio," corrected that young lady with a 
 laugh. 
 
 "McGinnis for mine," declared Biff. "By the way, 
 Bobby, I saw a certain party before I left town and 
 she gave me this letter for you. Certain party is as 
 cheerful as a chunk of lead about your trip, Bobby, 
 but she makes the swellest bluff I ever saw that she's 
 tickled to death with it." 
 
 With this vengeful shot in retaliation for his ex-
 
 256 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 cuse about Young Fitz having been doubted he sailed 
 away with the Caravaggio, who, though required 
 to report at every rehearsal, was not in the cast for 
 that night and was readily excused from further at- 
 tendance. Since Bobby had received a very pleasant 
 letter from Agnes when he got up that morning he 
 opened this missive with a touch of curiosity added 
 to the thrill with which he always took in his hands 
 any missive, no matter how trivial, from her. It was 
 but a brief note calling attention to the enclosed 
 newspaper clipping, and wishing him success in his 
 new venture. The clipping was a flamboyant article 
 describing the decision of the city council to install 
 a magnificent new ten-million-dollar waterworks sys- 
 tem, and the personally interesting item in it, ringed 
 around with a pencil mark, was that Silas Trimmer 
 had been appointed by Mayor Garland as president 
 of the waterworks commission. 
 
 It was not news that could alter his fortunes in 
 any way so far as he could see, but it did remind 
 him, with a strange whipping of his conscience, that, 
 after all, his place was back home, and that his proper 
 employment should be the looking after his home 
 interests. For the first time he began to have a dim 
 realization that a man's place was among his enemies, 
 where he could watch them.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 WHEREIN THE FINE ARTS PRESENT BOBBY WITH A 
 MOST EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 
 
 IT HAD become by no means strange to Bobby, 
 even before the company "took the road," that 
 some one of the principals should attach them- 
 selves to him in all his possible goings and comings, 
 for each and every one of them had some complaint 
 to make about all the others. They wanted read- 
 justments of cast, better parts to sing, better dress- 
 ing-rooms, better hotel quarters, better everything 
 than the others had, and with the unhappy and ex- 
 cited Monsieur Noire he shared this unending strife. 
 At first he saw it all in a humorous light, but, by 
 and by, he came to a period of ennui and tried to 
 rebel. This period gave him more trouble than the 
 other, so within a short time he lapsed into an apa- 
 thetic complaint-receptacle and dreamed no more of 
 walking or riding to and from the hotel without one 
 of these impulsive children of art, who seethed per- 
 petually in self -prodded artificial emotions, attached 
 to him. If it seemed strange at times that Madam 
 257
 
 258 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 Villenauve was more frequently with him than any of 
 the others he only reflected that the vivacious little 
 Frenchwoman was much more persistent; nor did he 
 note that, presently, the others came rather to give 
 way before her and to let her monopolize him more 
 and more. 
 
 It was during the third week that Professor Friih- 
 lingsvogel was to endure another birthday, and 
 Bobby, full of generous impulses as always, an- 
 nounced at rehearsal that in honor of the Professor's 
 unwelcome milestone he intended to give a little sup- 
 per that night at the hotel. Madam Villenauve, 
 standing beside him, suddenly threw her arms around 
 his neck and kissed him smack upon the lips, with 
 a quite enthusiastic declaration, in very charmingly 
 warped English, that he was "a dear old sing." 
 Bobby, reverting quickly in mind to the fact of the 
 extreme unconventionally of these people, took the 
 occurrence quite as a matter of course, though it 
 embarrassed him somewhat. He rather counted him- 
 self a prig that he could not sooner get over this 
 habit of embarrassment, and every time Madam Vil- 
 lenauve insisted on calling him into her dressing- 
 room when she was in much more of dishabille than 
 he would have thought permissible in ordinary peo- 
 ple, he felt that same painful lack of sophistication. 
 
 At the supper that night, Madam Villenauve, with
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 259 
 
 a great show of playful indignation, routed Madam 
 Kadanoff from her accidental seat next to Bobby, 
 and, in giving up the seat, which she did quite grace- 
 fully enough, Madam Kadanoff dropped some re- 
 mark in choice Russian, which, of course, Bobby did 
 not understand, but which Madam Villenauve did, 
 for she laughed a little shrilly and, with an engaging 
 upward smile at Bobby, observed: 
 
 "I theenk I shall say it zat zees so chairming 
 Monsieur Burnit is soon to marry wiz me; ees eet 
 not, monsieur?" 
 
 Whereupon Bobby, with his customary courtesy, 
 replied : 
 
 "No gentleman would care to deny such a charming 
 and attractive possibility, Madam Villenauve." 
 
 But the gracious speech was of the lips alone, and 
 spoken with a warning glare against "kidding" at 
 the grinning Biff Bates, who had found business of 
 urgent importance for that night in the city where 
 the company was booked. Bobby, in fact, had be- 
 gun to tire very much of the whole business. To 
 begin with, he found the organization a much more 
 expensive one to keep up than he had imagined. The 
 route, badly laid out, was one of tremendous long 
 jumps; of his singers, like other rare and expensive 
 creatures, extravagant care must be taken, and not 
 every place that they stopped was so eager for grand
 
 260 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 opera as it might have been. At the end of three 
 weeks he was able to compute that he had lost about 
 a thousand dollars a week, and in the fourth week 
 they struck an engagement so fruitless that even the 
 cheerful Caravaggio became dismal. 
 
 "It's a sure enough frost," she confided to Bobby ; 
 "but cheer up, for the worst is yet to come. Your 
 route sheet for the next two months looks like a 
 morgue to me, and unless you interpolate a few coon 
 songs in Tannhauser and some song and dance spe- 
 cialties between the acts of Les Huguenots you're 
 gone. You know I used to sing this route in musical 
 comedy, and, on the level, I've got a fine part wait- 
 ing for me right now in The Giddy Queen. I like 
 this highbrow music all right, but the people that 
 come to hear it make me so sad. You're a good sport, 
 though, and as long as you need me I'll stick." 
 
 "Thanks," said Bobby sincerely. "It's a pleasure 
 to speak to a real human being once in a while, even 
 if you don't offer any encouragement. However, 
 we'll not be buried till we're dead, notwithstanding 
 that we now enter upon the graveyard route." 
 
 Doleful experience, however, confirmed the Cara- 
 vaggio's gloomy prophecy. They embarked now 
 upon a season of one and two and three night stands 
 that gave Bobby more of the real discomforts of life 
 than he had ever before dreamed possible. To close
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 261 
 
 a performance at eleven, to pack and hurry for a 
 twelve-thirty train, to ride until five o'clock in the 
 morning a distance too short for sleep and too long 
 to stay awake to tumble into a hotel at six and sleep 
 until noon, this was one program; to close a per- 
 formance at eleven, to wait up for a four-o'clock 
 train, to ride until eight and get into a hotel at nine, 
 with a vitally necessary rehearsal between that and 
 the evening performance, was another program, 
 either one of which wore on health and temper and 
 purse alike. The losses now exceeded two thousand 
 dollars a week. Moreover, the frequent visits of Biff 
 Bates and his constant baiting of Signer Ricardo 
 had driven that great tenor to such a point of dis- 
 traction that one night, being near New York, he 
 drew his pay and departed without notice. There 
 was no use, in spite of Monsieur Noire's frantic 
 insistence, in trying to make the public believe that 
 the lank Dulceo was the fat Ricardo; moreover, im- 
 mediately upon his arrival in New York, Signer 
 Ricardo let it be known that he had left the Neapoli- 
 tan Company, so the prestige of the company fell 
 off at once, for the "country" press pays sharp 
 attention to these things. 
 
 A letter from Johnson at just this time also had 
 its influence upon Bobby, who now was in an 
 humble, not an antagonistic mood, and quite ripe for
 
 262 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 advice. Mr. Johnson had just conferred with Mr. 
 Bates upon his return from a visit to the Neapolitan 
 Company, and Mr. Bates had detailed to Mr. John- 
 son much that he had seen with his own eyes, and 
 much that the Caravaggio had told him. Mr. John- 
 son, thereupon, begging pardon for the presump- 
 tion, deemed this a fitting time, from what he had 
 heard, to forward Bobby the inclosed letter, which, 
 in its gray envelope, had been left behind by Bobby's 
 father : 
 
 To My Son in the Midst of a Losing Fight 
 
 "Determination is a magnificent quality, but bull- 
 headedness is not. The most foolish kind of pride 
 on earth is that which makes a man refuse to ac- 
 knowledge himself beaten when he is beaten. It takes 
 a pretty brave man, and one with good stuff in him, 
 to let all his friends know that he's been licked. Fig- 
 ure this out." 
 
 Bobby wrestled with that letter all night. In the 
 morning he received one from Agnes which served 
 to increase and intensify the feeling of homesickness 
 that had been overwhelming him. She, too, had seen 
 Biff Bates. She had asked him out to the house ex- 
 pressly to talk with him, but she had written a pleas- 
 ant, cheerful letter wherein she hoped that the end
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 263 
 
 of thie season would repay the losses she understood 
 that he was enduring; but she admitted that she was 
 very lonesome without him. She gave him quite a 
 budget of gay gossip concerning all the young peo- 
 ple of his set, and after he had read that letter he 
 was quite prepared to swallow his grit and make the 
 announcement that for a week had been almost upon 
 his tongue. 
 
 Through Monsieur Noire, at rehearsal that after- 
 noon, he declared his intention of closing the season, 
 and offered them each two weeks' advance pay and 
 their fare to New York. It was Signorina Cara- 
 vaggio who broke the hush that followed this an- 
 nouncement. 
 
 "You're a good sort, Bobby Burnit," she said, 
 with kindly intent to lead the others, "and I'll take 
 your offer and thank you." 
 
 It appeared that the majority of them had dreaded 
 some such denouement as this ; some had been pre- 
 pared for even less advantageous terms, and sev- 
 eral, upon direct inquiry, announced their willingness 
 to accept this proposal. A few declared their inten- 
 tion to hold him for the full contract. These were 
 the ones who had made sure of his entire solvency, 
 and these afterward swayed the balance of the com- 
 pany to a stand which won a better compromise. 
 When Monsieur Noire, with a curious smile, asked
 
 264 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Madam Villenauve, however, she laughed very pleas- 
 antly. 
 
 "Oh, non," said she ; "it does not apply, zis offair, 
 to me. I do not need it, for Monsieur Burnit ees 
 to marry wiz me zis Christmastam." 
 
 "I am afraid, Madam Villenauve, that we will have 
 to quit joking about that," said Bobby coldly. 
 
 " Joking!" screamed the shrill voice of madam. 
 "Bet ees not any joke. You can not fool wiz me, 
 Monsieur Burnit. You mean to tell all zese people 
 zat you are not to marry wiz me?" 
 
 "I certainly have no intention of the kind," said 
 Bobby impatiently, "nor have I ever expressed such 
 an intention." 
 
 "We s'all see about zat," declared the madam with 
 righteous indignation. "We s'all see how you can 
 amuse yourself. You refuse to keep your word zat 
 you marry me? All right zen, you do! I bring suit 
 to-day for brich promise, and I have here one, two, 
 three, a dozen weetness. I make what you call sub- 
 poena on zem all. We s'all see." 
 
 "Monsieur Noire," said Bobby, more sick and sore 
 than panic-stricken, "you will please settle matters 
 with all these people and come to me at the hotel for 
 whatever checks you need," and, hurt beyond measure 
 at this one more instance that there were, really, ra- 
 pacious schemers in the world, who sought loathsome
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 265 
 
 advantage at the expense of decent folk, Bobby crept 
 away, to hide himself and try to understand. 
 
 They were here for the latter half of the week, and, 
 since business seemed to be fairly good, Bobby had 
 decided to fill this engagement, canceling all others. 
 In the morning it seemed that Madam Villenauve had 
 been in earnest in her absurd intentions, for, in his 
 room, at eleven o'clock, he was served with papers 
 in the breach-of-promise suit of Villenauve versus 
 Burnit, and the amount of damages claimed was the 
 tremendous sum of one hundred and fifty thousand 
 dollars, an amount, of course, only commensurate with 
 Madam Villenauve's standing in the profession and 
 her earning capacity as an artist, her pride and shat- 
 tered feelings and the dashing to earth of her love's 
 young dream being of corresponding value. More- 
 over, he learned that an injunction had been issued 
 completely tying up his bank account. That was the 
 parting blow. Settling up with the performers upon 
 a blood-letting basis, he most ignominiously fled. Be- 
 fore he went away, however, Signorina Nora McGin- 
 nis Caravaggio called him to one side and confided a 
 most delicate message to him. 
 
 "Your friend, Mr. Bates," she began with an 
 embarrassed hesitation quite unusual in the direct 
 Irish girl; "he's a nice boy, from the ground up, 
 and give him an easy word from me. But, Mr.
 
 266 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Burnit, give him a hint not to do any more traveling 
 on my account ; for I've got a husband back in New 
 York that ain't worth the rat poison to put him out of 
 his misery, but I'm not getting any divorces. One 
 mistake is enough. But don't be too hard on me 
 when you tell Biff. Honest, up to just the last, I 
 thought he'd come only to see you; but I enjoyed his 
 visits." And in the eyes of the Caravaggio there 
 stood real tears. 
 
 A newsboy met Bobby on the train with the morn- 
 ing papers from home, and in them he read delight- 
 fully flavored and spiced accounts of the great Ville- 
 nauve breach-of-promise case, embellished with many 
 details that were entirely new to him. He had not 
 counted on this phase of the matter, and it struck him 
 almost as with an ague. The notoriety, the askance 
 looks he would receive from his more conservative 
 acquaintances, the "ragging" he would get at his 
 clubs, all these he could stand. But Agnes! How 
 could he ever face her? How would she receive him? 
 From the train he took a cab directly home and buried 
 himself there to think it all over. He spent a morn- 
 ing of intense dejection and an afternoon of the ut- 
 most misery. In the evening, not caring to dine in 
 solitary gloom at home nor to appear yet among his 
 fellows, he went out to an obscure restaurant in the 
 neighborhood and ate his dinner, then came back
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 267 
 
 again to his lonely room, seeing nothing ahead of 
 him but an evening of melancholy alone. His butler, 
 however, met him in the hall on his return. 
 
 "Miss Elliston called up on the 'phone while you 
 were out, sir." 
 
 "Did you tell Her I was at home?" asked Bobby 
 with quick apprehension. 
 
 "Yes, sir; you hadn't told me not to do so, sir; 
 and she left word that you were to come straight out 
 to the house as soon as you came in." 
 
 "Very well," said Bobby, and went into the library. 
 
 He sat down before the telephone and rested his 
 hand upon the receiver for perhaps as much as five 
 long minutes of hesitation, then abruptly he turned 
 away from that unsatisfactory means of communica- 
 tion and had his car ordered ; then hurriedly changed 
 to the evening clothes he had not intended to don that 
 night. 
 
 In most uncertain anticipation, but quite sure of 
 the most vigorous "blowing up" of his career, he 
 whirled out to the home of the Ellistons and ascended 
 the steps. The ring at the bell brought the ever im- 
 perturbable Wilkins, who nodded gravely upon see- 
 ing that it was Bobby and, relieving him of his coat 
 and hat, told him : 
 
 "Right up to the Turkish room, sir." 
 
 There seemed a strange quietness about the house,
 
 268 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 and he felt more and more as if he might be ap- 
 proaching a sentence as he climbed the silent stairs. 
 At the door of the Turkish room, however, Agnes 
 met him with outstretched hands and a smile of wel- 
 come which bore traces of quite too much amuse- 
 ment for his entire comfort. When she had drawn 
 him within the big alcove she laughed aloud, a light 
 laugh in which there was no possible trace of resent- 
 ment, and it lifted from his mind the load that had 
 been oppressing it all day long. 
 
 "I'm afraid you haven't heard," he began awk- 
 wardly. 
 
 "Heard !" she repeated, and laughed again. "Why, 
 Bobby, I read all the morning papers and all the 
 evening papers, and I presume there will be excellent 
 reading in every one of them for days and days to 
 come." 
 
 "And you're not angry?" he said, astounded. 
 
 "Angry!" she laughed. "Why, you poor Bobby. 
 I remember this Madam Villenauve perfectly, besides 
 seeing her ten-years-ago pictures in the papers, and 
 you don't suppose for a minute that I could be jeal- 
 ous of her, do you? Moreover, I can prove by Aunt 
 Constance and Uncle Dan that I predicted just this 
 very thing when you first insisted upon going on 
 the road." 
 
 He looked around, dreading the keen satire of
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 269 
 
 Uncle Dan and the incisive ridicule of Aunt Con- 
 stance, but she relieved his mind of that fear. 
 
 "We were all invited out to dinner to-night, but 
 I refused to go, for really I wanted to soften the 
 blow for you. There is nobody in the house but 
 myself and the servants. Now, do behave, Bobby! 
 Wait a minute, sir! I've something else to crush 
 you with. Have you seen the evening papers ?" 
 
 No ; the morning papers had been enough for him. 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you what they are doing. The 
 Consolidated Illuminating and Power Company has 
 secured an order from the city council compelling 
 the Brightlight Electric Company to remove their 
 poles from Market Street." 
 
 Bobby caught his breath sharply. Stone and 
 Sharp e and Garland, the political manipulators of 
 the city, and its owners, lock, stock and barrel were 
 responsible for this. They had taken advantage of 
 his absence. 
 
 "What a fool I have been," he bitterly confessed, 
 "to have taken up with this entirely irregular and 
 idiotic enterprise, a venture of which I knew nothing 
 whatever, and let go the serious fight I had intended 
 to make on Stone and his crowd." 
 
 "Never mind, Bobby," said Agnes. "I have a 
 suspicion that you have cut a wisdom-tooth. I rather 
 imagined that you needed this one last folly as a sort
 
 270 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 of relapse before complete convalescence, to settle you 
 down and bring you back to me for a more serious 
 effort. I see that the most of your money is tied up 
 in this embarrassing suit, and when I read that you 
 were on your way home I went to Mr. Chalmers and 
 got him to arrange for the release of some bonds. 
 Following the provisions of your father's will your 
 next two hundred and fifty thousand is waiting for 
 you. Moreover, Bobby, this time I want you to listen 
 to your trustee. I have found a new business for 
 you, one about which you know nothing whatever, 
 but one that you must learn ; I want to put a weapon 
 into your hands with which to fight for everything 
 you have lost." 
 
 He looked at her in wonder. 
 
 "I always told you I needed you," he declared. 
 "When are you going to marry me?" 
 
 "When you have won your fight, Bobby, or when 
 you have proved entirely hopeless," she replied with 
 a smile in which there was a certain amount of wist- 
 fulness. 
 
 "You're a good sort, Agnes," he said a little hus- 
 kily, and he pondered for some little time in awe over 
 the existence of women like this. "I guess the gov- 
 ernor was mighty right in making you my trustee, 
 after all. But what is this business?" 
 
 "The Evening Bulletin is for sale, I have learned.
 
 AN EMBARRASSING DILEMMA 271 
 
 Just now it is an independent paper, but it seems 
 to me you could not have a better weapon, with your 
 following, for fighting your political and business 
 enemies." 
 
 "I'll think that over very seriously," he said with 
 much soberness. "I have refused everybody's advice so 
 far, and have taken only my own. I have begun to 
 believe that I am not the wisest person in the world ; 
 also I have come to believe that there are more ways 
 to lose money than there are to make money; also 
 I've found out that men are not the only gold-brick 
 salesmen. Agnes, I'm what Biff Bates calls a 
 'Hick'!" 
 
 "Look what your father has to say about this last 
 escapade of yours," she said, smiling, and from her 
 desk brought him one of the familiar gray envelopes. 
 This was the letter: 
 
 To My Daughter 'Agnes, Upon Bobby's Entangle- 
 ment with a Blackmailing Woman 
 
 "No man can guard against being roped in by a 
 scheming woman the first time; but if it happens 
 twice he deserves it, and he should be turned out to 
 stay an idiot, for the signs are so plain. A man 
 swindler takes a man's money and makes a fool of 
 him ; but a woman swindler takes a man's money and 
 leaves a smirch on him. Only a man's nearest and
 
 272 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 dearest can help him live down such a smirch; so, 
 Agnes, if my son hias been this particular variety of 
 everlasting blank fool, don't turn against him. He 
 needs you. Moreover, you'll find him improved by 
 it. He'll be so much more humble." 
 
 "I didn't really need that letter," Agnes shyly 
 confessed; "but maybe it helped some."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING AND BOBBY PUTS A STONE 
 IN IT 
 
 THE wonderful change in a girl who, through 
 her love, has become all woman, that was 
 the marvel to Bobby ; the breadth of her 
 knowledge, the depth of her sympathy, the bound- 
 lessness of her compassionate forgiveness, her quality 
 of motherliness ; and this last was perhaps the great- 
 est marvel of all. Yet even his marveling did not en- 
 compass all the wonder. In his last exploit, more full 
 of folly than anything Into which he had yet blund- 
 ered, and the one which, of all others, might most 
 have turned her from him, Agnes had had the harder 
 part; to sit at home and wait, to dread she knew 
 not what. The certainty which finally evolved had 
 less of distress in it than not to know while day by 
 day passed by. One thing had made it easier: never 
 for one moment had she lost faith in Bobby, in any 
 way. She was certain, however, that financially his 
 trip would be a losing one, and from ! i^ time he left 
 she kept her mind almost constantly upon the thought 
 273
 
 274 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 of his future. She had become almost desperately 
 anxious for him to fulfill the hopes of his father, 
 and day by day she studied the commercial field as 
 she had never thought it possible that she could do. 
 There was no line of industry upon which she did 
 not ponder, and there was scarcely any morning that 
 she did not at the breakfast table ask Dan Elliston 
 the ins and outs of some business. If he was not 
 able to tell her all she wanted to know, she usually 
 commissioned him to find out. He took these requests 
 in good part, and if she accomplished nothing else 
 by all her inquiries she acquired such a commercial 
 education as falls to the lot of but few home-kept 
 young women. 
 
 One morning her uncle came down a trifle late 
 for breakfast and was in a hurry. 
 
 "The Elliston School of Commercial Instruction 
 will have a recess for this session," he observed as he 
 popped into his chair. "I have an important engage- 
 ment at the factory this morning and have about 
 seven minutes for breakfast. During that seven 
 minutes I prefer to eat rather than to talk. How- 
 ever, I do not object to listening. This being my 
 last word except to request you to gather things 
 closely about my plate, you may now start." 
 
 "Very well," said she, dimpling as she usually did 
 at any evidence of bruskness on the part of her
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 275 
 
 Uncle Dan, for from long experience she knew the 
 harmlessness of his bark. "Nick Allstyne happened 
 to remark to me last night that the Bulletin is for 
 sale. What do you think of the newspaper business 
 for Bobby?" 
 
 "The time necessary to answer that question takes 
 my orange from me," objected Uncle Dan as he 
 hastily sipped another bite of the fruit and pushed it 
 away. "The newspaper business for Bobby !" He 
 drew the muffins toward him and took one upon his 
 plate, then he stopped and pondered a moment. "Do 
 you know," said he, "that's about the best sugges- 
 tion you've made. I believe he could make a hummer 
 out of a newspaper. I've noticed this about the boy's 
 failures; they have all of them been due to lack of 
 experience; none of them has been due to any ab- 
 sence of backbone. Nobody has ever bluffed him." 
 
 Agnes softly clapped her hands. 
 
 "Exactly!" she cried. "Well, Uncle Dan, this is 
 the last word I'm going to say. For the balance of 
 your seven minutes I'm going to help stuff you with 
 enough food to keep you until luncheon time; but 
 sometime to-day, if you find time, I want you to go 
 over and see the proprietor of the Bulletin and find 
 out how much he wants for his property, and in- 
 vestigate it as a business proposition just the same 
 as if you were going into it yourself."
 
 276 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Uncle Dan, dipping voraciously into his soft boiled 
 eggs, grinned and said: "Huh!" Then he looked 
 at his watch. When he came home to dinner, however, 
 he hunted up Agnes at once. 
 
 "Your Bulletin proposition looks pretty good," he 
 told her. "I saw Greenleaf. He's a physical wreck 
 and has been for two years. He has to get away or 
 die. Moreover, his physical condition has reacted 
 upon his paper. His circulation has run down, but 
 he has a magnificent plant and a good office organiza- 
 tion. He wants two hundred thousand dollars for 
 his plant, good will and franchises. I'm going to 
 investigate this a little further. Do you suppose 
 Bobby will have two hundred thousand left when he 
 gets through with grand opera?" 
 
 "I hope so," replied Agnes ; "but if he hasn't I'll 
 have him waste the balance of this two hundred and 
 fifty thousand so that he can draw the next one." 
 
 Uncle Dan laughed in huge enjoyment of this 
 solution. 
 
 "You surely were cut out for high finance," he 
 told her. 
 
 She smiled, and was silent a while, hesitating. 
 
 "You seem to think pretty well of the business 
 as a business proposition," she ventured anxiously, 
 by and by ; "but you haven't told me what you think 
 of it as applicable to Bobby."
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 277 
 
 "If he'U take you in the office with him, he'll do 
 all right," he answered her banteringly ; but when 
 he went up-stairs and found his wife he said: "Con- 
 stance, if that girl don't pull Bobby Burnit through 
 his puppyhood in good shape there is something 
 wrong with the scheme of creation. There is some- 
 thing about you women of the Elliston family that 
 every once in a while makes me pause and reverence 
 the Almighty," whereupon Aunt Constance flushed 
 prettily, as became her. 
 
 With the same earnestness of purpose Agnes han- 
 dled the question of Bobby's breach-of -promise suit 
 in so far as it affected his social reception. The 
 Ellistons went to the theater and sat in a box to 
 exhibit him on the second night after his return, and 
 Agnes took careful count of all the people she knew 
 who attended the theater that night. The next day 
 she went to see all of them, among others Mrs. Hor- 
 ace Wickersham, whose social word was social law. 
 
 "My dear," said the redoubtable Mrs. Wicker- 
 sham, " it does Bobby Burnit great credit that he did 
 not marry the creature. Of course I shall invite him 
 to our affair next Friday night." 
 
 After that there could be no further question of 
 Bobby's standing, though without the firm support 
 of Agnes he might possibly have been ostracised, 
 for a time at least.
 
 278 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 It was with much less certainty that she spread 
 before Bobby the facts and figures which Uncle Dan 
 had secured about the condition and prospects of the 
 Bulletin. She did not urge the project upon him. 
 Instead, though in considerable anxiety, she left 
 the proposition open to his own judgment. He pon- 
 dered the question more soberly and seriously than 
 he had yet considered anything. There were but two 
 chances left to redeem himself now, and he felt much 
 like a gambler who has been reduced to his last 
 desperate stake. He grew almost haggard over the 
 proposition, and he spent two solid weeks in investi- 
 gation. He went to Washington to see Jack Starlett, 
 who knew three or four newspaper proprietors in 
 Philadelphia and elsewhere. He obtained introduc- 
 tions to these people and consulted with them, in- 
 spected their plants and listened to all they would 
 say; as they liked him, they said much. Ripened 
 considerably by what he had found out he came back 
 home and bought the Bulletin. Moreover, he had 
 very definitely made up his mind precisely what to 
 do with it. 
 
 On the first morning that he walked into the office 
 of that paper as its sole owner and proprietor, he 
 called the managing editor to him and asked: 
 
 "What, heretofore, has been the politics of this 
 paper?"
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 279 
 
 "Pale yellow jelly," snapped Ben Jolter wrath- 
 fully. 
 
 "Supposed to be anti-Stone, hasn't it been?" 
 Bobby smilingly inquired. 
 
 "But always perfectly ladylike in what it said 
 about him." 
 
 "And what are the politics of the employees?" 
 
 At this Mr. Jolter snorted. 
 
 "They are good newspaper men, Mr. Burnit," he 
 stated in quick defense ; "and a good newspaper man 
 has no politics." 
 
 Bobby eyed Mr. Jolter with contemplative favor. 
 He was a stout, stockily-built man, with a square 
 head and sparse gray hair that would persist in 
 tangling and curling at the ends ; and he perpetually 
 kept his sleeves rolled up over his big arms. 
 
 "I don't know anything about this business," con- 
 fessed Bobby, "but I hope to. First of all, I'd like 
 to find out why the Bulletin has no circulation." 
 
 "The lack of a spinal column," asserted Jolter. 
 "It has had no policy, stood pat on no proposition, 
 and made no aggressive fight on anything." 
 
 "If I understand what you mean by the word," 
 said Bobby slowly, "the Bulletin is going to have a 
 policy." 
 
 It was now Mr. Jolter's turn to gaze contempla- 
 tively at Bobby.
 
 280 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "If you were ten years older I would feel more 
 hopeful about it," he decided bluntly. 
 
 The young man flushed uncomfortably. He was 
 keenly aware that he had made an ass of himself in 
 business four successive times, and that Jolter knew 
 it. By way of facing the music, however, he showed 
 to his managing editor a letter, left behind with old 
 Johnson for Bobby by the late John Burnit: 
 
 "The mere fact that a man has been foolish four 
 times is no absolute proof that he is a fool ; but it's a 
 mighty significant hint. However, Bobby, I'm still 
 betting on you, for by this time you ought to have 
 your fighting blood at the right temperature; and 
 I've seen you play great polo in spite of a cracked 
 rib. 
 
 "P. S. If any one else intimates that you are a fool, 
 trounce him one for me." 
 
 "If there's anything in heredity you're a lucky 
 young man," said Jolter seriously, as he handed back 
 the letter. 
 
 "I think the governor was worried about it him- 
 self," admitted Bobby with a smile; "and if he was 
 doubtful I can't blame you for being so. Nevertheless, 
 Mr. Jolter, I must insist that we are going to have a 
 policy," and he quietly outlined it. 
 
 Mr. Jolter had been so long a directing voice in the 
 newspaper business that he could not be startled by
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 281 
 
 anything short of a presidential assassination, and 
 that at press time. Nevertheless, at Bobby's announce- 
 ment he immediately sought for his pipe and was 
 compelled to go into his own office after it. He came 
 back lighting it and felt better. 
 
 "It's suicide !" he declared. 
 
 "Then we'll commit suicide," said Bobby pleasantly. 
 
 Mr. Jolter, after long, grinning thought, solemnly 
 shook hands with him. 
 
 "I'm for it," said he. "Here's hoping that we sur- 
 vive long enough to write our own obituary !" 
 
 Mr. Jolter, to whom fighting was as the breath of 
 new-mown hay, and who had long been curbed in that 
 delightful occupation, went back into his own office 
 with a more cheerful air than he had worn for many 
 a day, and issued a few forceful orders, winding up 
 with a direction to the press foreman to prepare for 
 ten thousand extra copies that evening. 
 
 When the three o'clock edition of the Bulletin came 
 on the street, the entire first page was taken up by a 
 life-size half-tone portrait of Sam Stone, and under- 
 neath it was the simple legend : 
 
 THIS MAN MUST LEAVE TOWN 
 
 The first citizens to awake to the fact that the 
 Bulletin was born anew were the newsboys. Those live
 
 282 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 and enterprising merchants, with a very keen judg- 
 ment of comparative values, had long since ceased to 
 call the Bulletin at all ; half of them had even ceased 
 to carry it. Within two minutes after this edition was 
 out they were clamoring for additional copies, and for 
 the first time in years the alley door of the Bulletin 
 was besieged by a seething mob of ragged, diminutive, 
 howling masculinity. Out on the street, however, they 
 were not even now calling the name of the paper. 
 They were holding forth that black first page and 
 screaming just the name of Sam Stone. 
 
 Sam Stone! It was a magic name, for Stone had 
 been the boss of the town since years without num- 
 ber ; a man who had never held office, but who dictated 
 the filling of all offices ; a man who was not osten- 
 sibly in any business, but who swayed the fortune of 
 every public enterprise ; a self-confessed grafter whom 
 crusade after crusade had failed to dislodge from ab- 
 solute power. The crowds upon the street snapped 
 eagerly at that huge portrait and searched as eagerly 
 through the paper for more about the Boss. They 
 did not find it, except upon the editorial page, where, 
 in the space usually devoted to drivel about "How 
 Kind We Should Be to Dumb Animals," and "Why 
 Fathers Should Confide More in Their Sons," ap- 
 peared in black type a paraphrase of the legend on 
 the outside: "Sam Stone Must Leave Town" Be-
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 283 
 
 neath was the additional information: "Further is- 
 sues of the Bulletin will tell why." Above and below 
 this was nothing but startlingly white blank paper, 
 two solid columns of it up and down the page. 
 
 Down in the deep basement of the Bulletin, the big 
 three-deck presses, two of which had been standing 
 idle since the last presidential election, were pound- 
 ing out copies by the thousand, while grimy pressmen, 
 blackened with ink, perspired most happily. 
 
 By five o'clock, men and even girls, pouring from 
 their offices, and laborers coming from work, had all 
 heard of it, and on the street the bold defiance created 
 first a gasp and then a smile. Another attempt to 
 dislodge Sam Stone was, in the light of previous ef- 
 forts, a laughable thing to contemplate; and yet it 
 was interesting. 
 
 In the office of the Bulletin it was a gleeful occasion. 
 Nonchalant reporters sat down with that amazing 
 front page spread out before them, studied the brutal 
 face of Stone and chuckled cynically. Lean Doc Mil- 
 ler, "assistant city editor," or rather head copy reader, 
 lit one cigarette from the stub of another and observed, 
 to nobody in particular but to everybody in general : 
 
 "I can see where we all contribute for a beautiful 
 Gates Ajar floral piece for one Robert Burnit;" 
 whereupon fat "Bugs" Roach, "handling copy" across 
 the table from him, inquired :
 
 284 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Do you suppose the new boss really has this much 
 nerve, or is he just a damned fool?" 
 
 "Stone won't do a thing to him!" ingratiatingly 
 observed a "cub" reporter, laying down twelve pages 
 of "copy" about a man who had almost been bur- 
 glarized. 
 
 "Look here, you Greenleaf Whittier Squiggs," said 
 Doc Miller most savagely, not because he had any par- 
 ticular grudge against the unfortunately named G. 
 W., but because of discipline and the custom with 
 "cubs," "the next time you're sent out on a twenty- 
 minute assignment like this, remember the number of 
 the Bulletin, 427 Grand Street. The telephone is Cen- 
 tral 2051, and don't forget to report the same day. 
 Did you get the man's name? Uh-huh. His address? 
 Uh-huh. Well, we don't want the item." 
 
 Slow and phlegmatic Jim Brown, who had been city 
 editor on the Bulletin almost since it was the Bulletin 
 under half a dozen changes of ownership and nearly 
 a score of managing editors, sauntered over into Jol- 
 ter's room with a copy of the paper in his hand, and 
 a long black stogie held by some miracle in the corner 
 of his mouth, where it would be quite out of the road 
 of conversation. 
 
 "Pretty good stuff," he drawled, indicating the re- 
 markable first page. 
 
 "The greatest circus act that was ever pulled off
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 285 
 
 in the newspaper business," asserted Jolter. "It will 
 quadruple the present circulation of the Bulletin in 
 a week." 
 
 "Make or break," assented the city editor, "with 
 the odds in favor of the break." 
 
 A slenderly-built young man, whose red face needed 
 a shave and whose clothes, though wrinkled and un- 
 brushed, shrieked of quality, came stumbling up the 
 stairs in such hot haste as was possible in his condi- 
 tion, and without ceremony or announcement burst 
 into the room where Bobby Burnit, with that day's 
 issue of the Bulletin spread out before him, was try- 
 ing earnestly to get a professional idea of the proper 
 contents of a newspaper. 
 
 "Great goods, old man !" said the stranger. "I want 
 to congratulate you on your lovely nerve," and seizing 
 Bobby's hand he shook it violently. 
 
 "Thanks," said Bobby, not quite sure whether to 
 be amused or resentful. "Who are you ?" 
 
 "I'm Dillingham," announced the red-faced young 
 man with a cheerful smile. 
 
 Bobby was about to insist upon further informa- 
 tion, when Mr. Jolter came in to introduce Brown, 
 who had not yet met Mr. Burnit. 
 
 "Dill," drawled Brown, with a twinkle in his eye, 
 "how much money have you?" 
 
 "Money to burn ; money in every pocket," asserted
 
 286 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Mr. Dillingham; "money to last for ever," and he 
 jammed both hands in his trousers' pockets. 
 
 It was an astonishing surprise to Mr. Dillingham, 
 after groping in those pockets, to find that he brought 
 up only a dollar bill in his left hand and forty- 
 five cents in silver in his right. He was still contem- 
 plating in awed silence this perplexing fact when 
 Brown handed him a five-dollar bill. 
 
 "Now, you run right out and get stewed to the eye- 
 brows again," directed Brown. "Get properly pickled 
 and have it over with, then show up here in the morn- 
 ing with a headache and get to work. We want you to 
 take charge of the Sam Stone expose, and in to-mor- 
 row's Bulletin we want the star introduction of your 
 life." 
 
 "Do you mean to say you're going to trust the 
 whole field conduct of this campaign to that chap?" 
 asked Bobby, frowning, when Dillingham had gone. 
 
 "This is his third day, so Dill's safe for to-morrow 
 morning," Brown hastened to assure him. "He'll be 
 up here early, so penitent that he'll be incased in a 
 blue fog and he'll certainly deliver the goods." 
 
 Bobby sighed and gave it up. This was a new 
 world. 
 
 Over in his dingy little office, up his dingy flight 
 of stairs, Sam Stone sat at his bare and empty old 
 desk, looking contemplatively out of the window, when
 
 AGNES FINDS BOBBY A SLING 281 
 
 Frank Sharpe his luxuriant gray mustache in an 
 extraordinary and most violent state of straggling 
 curliness came nervously bustling in with a copy of 
 the Bulletm in his hand. 
 
 "Have you seen this ?" he shrilled. 
 
 "Heard about it," grunted Stone. 
 
 "But what do you think of it?" demanded Sharpe 
 indignantly, and spread the paper out on the desk 
 before the Boss, thumping it violently with his 
 knuckles. 
 
 Stone studied it well, without the slightest change 
 of expression upon his heavy features. 
 
 "It's a swell likeness," he quietly conceded, by and 
 by.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 BOBBY BEGINS TO GIVE TESTIMONY THAT HE IS OLD 
 JOHN BUBNIT'S SON 
 
 CLOSETED with Jolter and Brown, and map- 
 ping out with them the dangerous campaign 
 into which they had plunged, Bobby did not 
 leave the office of the Bulletin until six o'clock. At 
 the curb, just as he was about to step into his wait- 
 ing machine, Biff Bates hailed him with vast en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 "Go to it, Bobby!" said he. "I'm backing you 
 across the board, win, place and show ; but let me give 
 you a hot tip right from the stables. You want to be 
 afraid to go home in the dark, or Stone's lobbygows 
 will lean on you with a section of plumbing." 
 
 "I've thought of that, Biff," laughed Bobby; "and 
 I think I'll organize a band of murderers of my own." 
 
 Johnson, whom Bobby had quite forgotten in the 
 stress of the day, joined them at this moment. Thirty 
 years as head bookkeeper and confidential adviser in 
 old John Burnit's merchandise establishment had not 
 fitted lean Johnson for the less dignified and more 
 288
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S SON 289 
 
 flurried work of a newspaper office, even in the busi- 
 ness department, and he was looking very much 
 fagged. 
 
 "Well, Johnson, what do you think of my first issue 
 of the Bulletin?" asked Bobby pleasantly. 
 
 Johnson looked genuinely distressed. 
 
 "To teU you the truth, Mr. Burnit," said he, "I 
 have not seen it. I never in all my life saw a place 
 where there were so many interruptions to work. If 
 we could only be back in, your father's store, sir." 
 
 "We'll be back there before we quit," said Bobby 
 confidently ; "or I'll be in the incurable ward." 
 
 "I hope so, sir," said Johnson dismally, and strode 
 across the street to catch his car ; but he came back 
 hastily to add: "I meant about the store; not about 
 the asylum." 
 
 Biff Bates laughed as he clambered into the ton- 
 neau with Bobby. 
 
 "If you'd make a billion dollars, Bobby, but didn't 
 get back your father's business that Silas Trimmer 
 snaked away from you, Johnson would think you'd 
 overlooked the one best bet." 
 
 "So would I," said Bobby soberly, and he had but 
 very little more to say until the chauffeur stopped at 
 Bobby's own door, where puffy old Applerod, who had 
 been next to Johnson in his usefulness to old John 
 Burnit, stood nervously awaiting him on the steps.
 
 290 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Terrible, sir! Terrible!" spluttered Applerod the 
 moment he caught sight of Bobby. "This open defi- 
 ance of Mr. Stone will put entirely out of existence 
 what little there is left of the Brightlight Electric 
 Company." 
 
 "Cheer up, Applerod, for death must come to us 
 all," encouraged Bobby. "Such shreds and fragments 
 of the Brightlight as there are left would have been 
 wiped out anyhow ; and frankly, if you must have it, 
 I put you in there as general manager, when I shifted 
 Johnson to the Bulletin this morning, because there 
 was nothing to manage." 
 
 Applerod threw up his hands in dismay. 
 "And there will be less. Oh, Mr. Burnit, if your 
 father were only here !" 
 
 Bobby, whose suavity Applerod had never before 
 seen ruffled, turned upon him angrily. 
 
 "I'm tired hearing about my father, Applerod," 
 he declared. "I revere the governor's memory too 
 much to want to be made angry by the mention of his 
 name. Hereafter, kindly catch the idea, if you can, 
 that I am my own man and must work out my own 
 salvation; and I propose to do it! Biff, you don't 
 mind if I put off seeing you until to-morrow ? I have 
 a dinner engagement this evening and very little time 
 to dress." 
 
 "His own man," said Applerod sorrowfully when
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S SON 291 
 
 Bobby had left them. "John Burnit would be half 
 crazy if he could know what a botch his son is making 
 of things. I don't see how a man could let himself be 
 cheated four times in business." 
 
 "I can tell you," retorted Biff. "All his old man 
 ever did for him was to stuff his pockets with kale, 
 and let him grow up into the sort of clubs where one 
 sport says: 'I'm going to walk down to the corner.' 
 Says the other sport : 'I'll bet you see more red-headed 
 girls on the way down than you do on the way back.' 
 Says the first sport: 'You're on for a hundred.' He 
 goes down to the corner and he comes back. 'How 
 about the red-headed girls ?' asks the second sport. 'I 
 lose,' says the first sport ; 'here's your hundred.' Now, 
 when Bobby is left real money, he starts in to play 
 the same open-face game, and when one of these busi- 
 ness wolves tells him anything Bobby don't stop to 
 figure whether the mut means what he says, or means 
 something else that sounds like the same thing. Now, 
 if Bobby was a simp they'd sting him in so many 
 places that he'd be swelled all over, like an exhibition 
 cream puff; but he ain't a simp. It took him four 
 times to learn that he can't take a man's word in busi- 
 ness. That's all he needed. Bobby's awake now, and 
 more than that he's mad, and if I hear you make an- 
 other crack that he ain't about all the candy I'll sick 
 old Johnson on you," and with this dire threat Biff
 
 292 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 wheeled, leaving Mr. Applerod speechless with red- 
 faced indignation. 
 
 It was just a quiet family dinner that Bobby at- 
 tended that night at the Ellistons', with Uncle Dan 
 and Aunt Constance Elliston at the head and foot of 
 the table, and across from him the smiling face of 
 Agnes. He was so good to look at that Agnes was 
 content just to watch him, but Aunt Constance noted 
 his abstraction and chided him upon it. 
 
 "Really, Bobby," said she, "since you have gone 
 into business you're ruined socially." 
 
 "Frankly, I don't mind," he replied, smiling. "I'd 
 rather be ruined socially than financially. In spite of 
 certain disagreeable features of it, I have a feeling 
 upon me to-night that I'm going to like the struggle." 
 
 "You're starting a stiff one now," observed Uncle 
 Dan dryly. "Beginning an open fight against Sam 
 Stone is a good deal like being suspended over Hades 
 by a single hair amidst a shower of Roman candles." 
 
 "That's putting it about right, I guess," admitted 
 Bobby ; "but I'm relying on the fact that the public 
 at heart is decent." 
 
 "Do you remember, Bobby, what Commodore Van- 
 derbilt said about the public?" retorted Uncle Dan. 
 "They're decent, all right, but they won't stick to- 
 gether in any aggressive movement short of gun- 
 powder. In the meantime, Stone has more entrench-
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S SON 293 
 
 ments than even you can dream. For instance, I should 
 not wonder but that within a very short time I shall 
 be forced to try my influence with you in his behalf." 
 
 "How?" asked Bobby incredulously. 
 
 "Well, I am trying to get a spur track from the 
 X. Y. Z. Railroad to my factory on Spindle Street. 
 The X. Y. Z. is perfectly willing to put in the track, 
 and I'm trying to have the city council grant us a 
 permit. Now, who is the city council?" 
 
 "Stone," Bobby was compelled to admit. 
 
 "Of course. I have already arranged to pay quite a 
 sum of money to the capable and honest city council- 
 man of that ward. The ca-pable and honest councilman 
 will go to Stone and give up about three-fourths of 
 what I pay him. Then Stone will pass the word out 
 to the other councilmen that he's for Alderman Hold- 
 up's spur track permit, and I get it. Very simple ar- 
 rangement, and satisfactory, but, if they do not shove 
 that measure through at their meeting to-morrow 
 night, before Stone finds out any possible connection 
 between you and me, the price of it will not be money. 
 I'll be sent to you." 
 
 "I see," said Bobby in dismay. "In other words, it 
 will be put flatly up to me ; I'll either have to quit my 
 attacks on Stone, or be directly responsible for your 
 losing your valuable spur track." 
 
 "Exactly," said Uncle Dan.
 
 294 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 Bobby drew a long breath. 
 
 "I'm very much afraid, Mr. Elliston, that you will 
 have to do without your spur." 
 
 Uncle Dan's eyes twinkled. 
 
 "I'm willing," said he. "I have a good offer to sell 
 that branch of my plant anyhow, and I think I'll dis- 
 pose of it. I have been very frank with you about this, 
 so that you will know exactly what to expect when 
 other people come at you. You will be beset as you 
 never were before." 
 
 "I have been looking for an injunction, myself." 
 
 "You will have no injunction, for Stone scarcely 
 dares go publicly into his own courts," said Uncle 
 Dan, with a pretty thorough knowledge, gained 
 through experience, of the methods of the "Stone 
 gang" ; "though he might even use that as a last re- 
 sort. That will be after intimidation fails, for it is 
 quite seriously probable that they will hire somebody 
 to beat you into insensibility. If that don't teach you 
 the proper lesson, they will probably kill you." 
 
 Agnes looked up apprehensively, but catching Boti- 
 by's smile took this latter phase of the matter as a 
 joke. Bobby himself was not deeply impressed with 
 it, but before he went away that night Uncle Dan took 
 him aside and urged upon him the seriousness of the 
 matter. 
 
 "I'll fight them with their own weapons, then," de-
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S SON 295 
 
 clared Bobby. "I'll organize a counter band of thugs, 
 and I'll block every move they make with one of the 
 same sort. Somehow or other I think I am going to 
 win." 
 
 "Of course you will win," said Agnes confidently, 
 overhearing this last phrase; and with that most 
 prized of all encouragement, the faith in his prowess 
 of the one woman, Bobby, for that night at least, felt 
 quite contemptuous of the grilling fight to come. 
 
 His second issue of the Bulletin contained on the 
 front page a three-column picture of Sam Stone, 
 with the same caption, together with a full-page ar- 
 ticle, written by Dillingham from data secured by him- 
 self and the others who were put upon the "story." 
 This set forth the main iniquities of Sam Stone and 
 his crew of municipal grafters. In the third day's 
 issue the picture was reduced to two columns, occupy- 
 ing the left-hand upper corner of the front page, 
 where Bobby ordered it to remain permanently as the 
 slogan of the Bulletin; and now Dillingham began his 
 long series of articles, taking up point by point the 
 ramifications of Stone's machine, and coming closer 
 and closer daily to people who would much rather have 
 been left entirely out of the picture. 
 
 It was upon this third day that Bobby, becoming 
 apprehensive merely because nothing had happened, 
 received a visit from Frank Sharpe. Mr. Sharpe was
 
 296 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 as nattily dressed as ever, and presented himself as 
 pleasantly as a summer breeze across fields of clover. 
 
 "I came in to see you about merging the Bright- 
 light Electric Company with the Consolidated, Mr. 
 Burnit," said Mr. Sharpe in a chatty tone, laying his 
 hat, cane and gloves upon Bobby's desk and seating 
 himself comfortably. 
 
 From his face there was no doubt in Mr. Sharpens 
 mind that this was a mere matter of an interview with 
 a satisfactory termination, for Mr. Sharpe had done 
 business with Bobby before ; but something had hap- 
 pened to Bobby in the meantime. 
 
 "When I get ready for a merger of the Brightlight 
 with the Consolidated I'll tell you about it ; and also 
 I'll tell you the terms," Bobby advised him with a 
 snap, and for the first time Mr. Sharpe noted what a 
 good jaw Bobby had. 
 
 "I should think," hesitated Sharpe, "that in the 
 present condition of the Brightlight almost any terms 
 would be attractive to you. You have no private con- 
 sumers now, and your contract for city lighting, 
 which you can not evade except by bankruptcy, is 
 losing you money." 
 
 "If that were news to me it would be quite star- 
 tling," responded Bobby, "but you see, Mr. Sharpe, 
 I am quite well acquainted with the facts myself. 
 Also, I have a strong suspicion that you tampered
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S SON 297 
 
 with my plant ; that your hired agents cut my wires, 
 ruined my dynamos and destroyed the efficiency of 
 my service generally." 
 
 "You will find it very difficult to prove that, Mr. 
 Burnit," said Sharpe, with a sternness which could 
 not quite conceal a lurking smile. 
 
 "I'm beginning to like difficulty," retorted Bobby. 
 "I do not mind telling you that I was never angry 
 before in my life, and I'm surprised to find myself 
 enjoying the sensation." 
 
 Bobby was still more astonished to find himself lay- 
 ing his fist tensely upon his desk. The lurking smile 
 was now gone entirely from Mr. Sharpe's face. 
 
 "I must admit, Mr. Burnit, that your affairs have 
 turned out rather unfortunately," he said, "but I 
 think that they might be remedied for you a bit, per- 
 haps. Suppose you go and see Stone." 
 
 "I do not care to see Mr. Stone," said Bobby. 
 "But he wants to see you," persisted Sharpe. "In 
 fact, he told me so this morning. I'm quite sure you 
 would find it to your advantage to drop over there." 
 
 "I shall never enter Mr. Stone's office until he has 
 vacated it for good," said Bobby ; "then I might be 
 induced to come over and break up the furniture. If 
 Stone wants to see me I'm keeping fairly regular of- 
 fice hours here." 
 
 "It is not Mr. Stone's habit to go to other people,"
 
 298 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 bluffed Sharpe, growing somewhat nervous ; for it was 
 one of Stone's traits not to forgive the failure of a 
 mission. He had no use for extenuating circumstances. 
 He never looked at anything in this world but re- 
 sults. 
 
 Bobby took down the receiver of his house tele- 
 phone. 
 
 "I'd like to speak to Mr. Jolter, please," said he. 
 
 Sharpe rose to go. 
 
 "Just wait a moment, Mr. Sharpe," said Bobby 
 peremptorily, and Sharpe stopped. "Jolter," he di- 
 rected crisply, turning again to the 'phone, "kindly 
 step into my office, will you ?" 
 
 A moment later, while Sharpe stood wondering, 
 Jolter came in, and grinned as he noted Bobby's visi- 
 tor. 
 
 "Mr. Jolter," asked Bobby, "have we a good por- 
 trait of Mr. Sharpe?" 
 
 Jolter, still grinning, stated that they had. 
 
 "Have a three-column half-tone made of it for this 
 evening's Bulletin." 
 
 Sharpe fairly spluttered. 
 
 "Mr. Burnit, if you print my picture in the Bulle- 
 tin connected with anything derogatory, I'll I'll " 
 
 Bobby waited politely for a moment. 
 
 "Go ahead, Mr. Sharpe," said he. "I'm interested 
 to know just what you will do, because we're going to
 
 OLD JOHN BURNIT'S SON 299 
 
 print the picture, connected with something quite de- 
 rogatory. Now finish your threat." 
 
 Sharpe gazed at him a moment, speechless with 
 rage, and then stamped from the office. 
 
 Jolter, quietly chuckling, turned to Bobby. 
 
 "I guess you'll do," he commented. "If you last 
 long enough you'll win." 
 
 "Thanks," said Cobby dryly, and then he smiled. 
 "Say, Jolter," he added, "it's bully fun being angry. 
 I'm just beginning to realize what I have been miss- 
 ing all these years. Go ahead with Sharpe's picture 
 and print anything you please about him. I guess 
 you can secure enough material without going out of 
 the office, and if you can't I'll supply you with some." 
 
 Jolter looked at his watch and hurried for the door. 
 Minutes were precious if he wanted to get that Sharpe 
 cut made in time for the afternoon edition. At the 
 door, however, he turned a bit anxiously. 
 
 "I suppose you carry a gun, don't you?" 
 
 "By no means," said Bobby. "Never owned one." 
 
 "I'd advise you to get a good one at once," and 
 Jolter hurried away. 
 
 That evening's edition of the Bulletin contained a 
 beautiful half-tone of Mr. Sharpe. Above it was 
 printed: "The Bulletin's Rogues' Gallery," and be- 
 neath was the caption : "Hadn't this man better go, 
 too?"
 
 CHAPTER XXIY 
 
 EDITOR BURNIT DISCOVERS THAT HE IS FIGHTING AN 
 ENTIRE CITY INSTEAD OF ONE MAN 
 
 AT four o'clock of that same day Mr. Brown 
 came in, and Mr. Brown was grinning. In 
 the last three days a grin had become the 
 trade-mark of the office, for the staff of the Bulletin 
 was enjoying itself as never before in all its history. 
 "Stone's in my office," said Brown. "Wants to see 
 you." 
 
 Bobby was interestedly leafing over the pages of 
 the Bulletin. He looked leisurely at his watch and 
 yawned. 
 
 "Tell Mr. Stone that I am busy, but that I will 
 receive him in fifteen minutes," he directed, where- 
 upon Mr. Brown, appreciating the joke, grinned still 
 more expansively and withdrew. 
 
 Bobby, as calmly as he could, went on with his 
 perusal of the Bulletin. To deny that he was some- 
 what tense over the coming interview would be foolish. 
 Never had a quarter of an hour dragged so slowly, 
 300
 
 EDITOR BURNIT'S FIGHT 301 
 
 but he waited it out, with five minutes more on top of 
 it, and then he telephoned to Brown to know if Stone 
 was still there. He was relieved to find that he was. 
 
 "Tell him to come in," he ordered. 
 
 If Stone was inwardly fuming when he entered the 
 room he gave no indication of it. His heavy face bore 
 only his habitually sullen expression, his heavy-lidded 
 eyes bore only their usual somberness, his heavy brow 
 had in it no crease other than those that time had 
 graven there. With the deliberateness peculiar to him 
 he planted his heavy body in a big arm-chair opposite 
 to Bobby, without removing his hat. 
 
 "I don't believe in beating around the bush, Mr." 
 Burnit," said he, with a glance over his shoulder to 
 make sure that the door was closed. "Of course you're 
 after something. What do you want?" 
 
 Bobby looked at him in wonder. He had heard much 
 of Stone's bluntness, and now he was fascinated by it. 
 Nevertheless, he did not forget his own viewpoint. 
 
 "Oh, I don't want much," he observed pleasantly, 
 "only just your scalp; yours and the scalps of a few 
 others who gave me my education, from Silas Trimmer 
 up and down. I think one of the things that aggra- 
 vated me most was the recent elevation of Trimmer to 
 the chairmanship of your waterworks commission. 
 Trivial as it was, this probably had as much to do 
 with my sudden determination to wipe you gut, as
 
 302 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 your having the Brightlight's poles removed from 
 Market Street." 
 
 Stone laid a heavy hand easily upon Bobby's desk. 
 It was a strong hand, a big hand, brown and hairy, 
 and from the third pudgy finger glowed a huge dia- 
 mond. 
 
 "As far as Trimmer is concerned," said he, quite 
 undisturbed, "you can have his head any minute. He's 
 a mutt." 
 
 "You don't need to give me Mr. Trimmer's head," 
 replied Bobby, quite as calmly. "I intend to get that 
 myself." 
 
 "And as for the Brightlight," continued Stone as 
 if he had not been interrupted, "I sent Sharpe over 
 to see you about that this morning. I think we can 
 fix it so that you can get back your two hundred and 
 fifty thousand. The deal's been worth a lot more than 
 that to the Consolidated." 
 
 "No doubt," agreed Bobby. "However, I'm not 
 looking, at the present moment, for a sop to the 
 Brightlight Company. It will be time enough for that 
 when I have forced the Consolidated into the hands of 
 a receiver." 
 
 Stone looked at Bobby thoughtfully between nar- 
 rowed eyelids. 
 
 "Look here, young fellow," said he presently. 
 "Now, you take it from me, and I have been through
 
 EDITOR BURNIT'S FIGHT 303 
 
 the mill, that there ain't any use holding a grouch. 
 The mere doing damage don't get you anything un- 
 less it's to whip somebody else into line with a warn- 
 ing. I take it that this ain't what you're trying to do. 
 You think you're simply playing a grouch game, 
 table stakes ; but if you'll simmer down you'll find 
 you've got a price. Now, I'd rather have you with 
 me than against me. If you'll just say what you want 
 I'll get it for you if it's in reach. But don't froth. 
 I've cleaned up as much money as your daddy did, 
 just by keeping my temper." 
 
 "I'm going to keep mine, too," Bobby informed him 
 quite cheerfully. "I have just found that I have one, 
 and I like it." 
 
 Stone brushed this triviality aside with a wave of 
 his heavy hand. 
 
 "Quit kidding," he said, "and come out with it. I 
 see you're no piker, anyhow. You're playing for big 
 game. What is it you want?" 
 
 "As I said before, not very much," declared Bobby. 
 "I only want to grind your machine into powder. I 
 want to dig up the rotten municipal control of this 
 city, root and branch. I want to ferret out every bit 
 of crookedness in which you have been concerned, and 
 every bit that you have caused. I want to uncover 
 every man, high or low, for just what he is, and I 
 don't care how well protected he is nor how shining
 
 304 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 his reputation, if he's concerned in a crooked deal I'm 
 going after him " 
 
 "There won't be many of us left," Stone inter- 
 rupted with a smile. 
 
 " I want to get back some of the money you have 
 stolen from this city," continued Bobby ; "and I want, 
 last of all, to drive you out of this town for good." 
 
 Stone rose with a sigh. 
 
 "This is the only chance I'll give you to climb in 
 with the music," he rumbled. "I've kept off three 
 days, figuring out where you were leading to and what 
 you were after. Now, last of all, what will you take 
 to call it off?" 
 
 "I have told you the price," said Bobby. 
 
 "Then you're looking for trouble and you must 
 have it, eh?" 
 
 "I suppose I must." 
 
 "Then you'll get it," and without the sign of a 
 frown upon his brow Mr. Stone left the office. 
 
 The next morning things began to happen. The 
 First National Bank called up the business office of 
 the Bulletin and ordered its advertisement discontin- 
 ued. Not content alone with that, President De Graff 
 called up Bobby personally, and in a very cold and 
 dignified voice told him that the First National was 
 compelled to withdraw its patronage on account of the 
 undignified personal attacks in which the Bulletin was
 
 EDITOR BURNIT'S FIGHT 305 
 
 indulging. Bobby whistled softly. He knew De Graff 
 quite well; they were, in fact, upon most intimate 
 terms, socially. 
 
 "I should think, De Graff," Bobby remonstrated, 
 "that of all people the banks should be glad to have 
 all this crookedness rooted out of the city. As a mat- 
 ter of fact, I intended shortly to ask your cooperation 
 in the formation of a citizens' committee to insure hon- 
 est politics." 
 
 "I really could not take any active part in such a 
 movement, Mr. Burnit," returned De Graff, still more 
 coldly. "The conservatism necessary to my position 
 forbids my connection with any sensational publicity 
 whatsoever." 
 
 An hour later, Crone, the advertising manager, 
 came up to Bobby very much worried, to report that 
 not only the First National but the Second Market 
 Bank had stopped their advertising, as had Trimmer 
 and Company, and another of the leading dry-goods 
 firms. 
 
 "Of course," said Crone, "your editorial policy is 
 your own, but I'm afraid that it is going to be ruinous 
 to your advertising." 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder," admitted Bobby dryly, and 
 that was all the satisfaction he gave Crone; but in- 
 wardly he was somewhat disturbed. 
 
 He had not thought of the potency of this line of
 
 306 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 attack. While he knew nothing of the newspaper busi- 
 ness, he had already made sure that the profit was in 
 the advertising. He sent for Jolter. 
 
 "Ben," he asked, "what is the connection between 
 the First National and the Second Market Banks and 
 Sam Stone?" 
 
 "Money," said the managing editor promptly. 
 "Both banks are depositories of city funds." 
 
 "I see," said Bobby slowly. "Do any other banks 
 enjoy this patronage?" 
 
 "The Merchants' and the Planters' and Traders' 
 hold the county funds, which are equally at Stone's 
 disposal." 
 
 Bobby heard this news in silence, and Jolter, after 
 looking at him narrowly for a moment, added : 
 
 "I'll tell you something else. Not one of the four 
 banks pays to the city or the county one penny of 
 interest on these deposits. This is well known to the 
 newspapers, but none of them has dared use it." 
 
 "Go after them," said Bobby. 
 
 "Moreover, it is strongly suspected that the banks 
 pay interest privately to Stone, through a small and 
 select ring in the court-house and in the city hall." 
 
 "Go after them." 
 
 "I suppose you know the men who will be involved 
 in this," said Jolter. 
 
 "Some of my best friends, I expect," said Bobby.
 
 EDITOR BURNIT'S FIGHT 307 
 
 "And some of the most influential citizens in this 
 town," retorted Jolter. "They can ruin the Bulletin 
 They could ruin any business." 
 
 "The thing's crooked, isn't it?" demanded Bobby. 
 
 "As a dog's hind leg." 
 
 "Go after them, Jolter!" Bobby reiterated. Then 
 he laughed aloud. "De Graff just telephoned me that 
 'the conservatism of his position forbids him to take 
 part in any sensational publicity whatsoever.' " 
 
 Comment other than a chuckle was superfluous from 
 either one of them, and Jolter departed to the city 
 editor's room, to bring joy to the heart of the staff. 
 
 It was "Bugs" RoacK who scented the far-reaching 
 odor of this move with the greatest joy. 
 
 "You know what this means, don't you?" he de- 
 lightedly commented. "A grand jury investigation. 
 Oh, listen to the band!" 
 
 Before noon the Merchants' and the Planters' and 
 Traders' Banks had withdrawn their advertisements. 
 
 At about the same hour a particularly atrocious 
 murder was committed in one of the suburbs. Up in 
 the reporters' room of the police station, Thomas, of 
 the Bulletin, and Graham, of the Chronicle, were in- 
 dulging in a quiet game of whist with two of the morn- 
 ing newspaper boys, when a roundsman stepped to the 
 door and called Graham out. Graham came back a 
 moment later after his coat, with such studied non-
 
 308 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 chalance that the other boys, eternally suspicious as 
 police reporters grow to be, looked at him narrowly, 
 and Thomas asked him, also with studied nonchalance : 
 
 "The candy-store girl, or the one in the laundry 
 office?" 
 
 "Business, young fellow, business," returned Gra- 
 ham loftily. "I guess the Chronicle knows when it has 
 a good man. I'm called into the office to save the paper. 
 They're sending a cub down to cover the afternoon. 
 Don't scoop him, old man." 
 
 "Not unless I get a chance," promised Thomas, but 
 after Graham had gone he went down to the desk and, 
 still unsatisfied, asked : 
 
 "Anything doing, Lieut.?" 
 
 "Dead as a door-nail," replied the lieutenant, and 
 Thomas, still with an instinct that something was 
 wrong, still sensitive to a certain suppressed tingling 
 excitement about the very atmosphere of the place, 
 went slowly back to the reporters' room, where he 
 spent a worried half -hour. 
 
 The noonday edition of the Chronicle carried, in 
 the identical columns devoted in the Bulletin to a fur- 
 ther attack on Stone, a lurid account of the big mur- 
 ider; and the Bulletin had not a line of it! A sharp 
 call from Brown to Thomas, at central police, ap- 
 prised the latter that he had been "scooped," and 
 brought out the facts in the case. Thomas hurried
 
 EDITOR BURNIT'S FIGHT 309 
 
 down-stairs and bitterly upbraided Lieutenant Cas- 
 per. 
 
 "Look here, you Thomas," snapped Casper; "you 
 Bulletin guys have been too fresh around here for a 
 long time." 
 
 In Casper's eyes Casper with whom he had al- 
 ways been on cordial joking terms he saw cruel im- 
 placability, and, furious, he knew himself to be "in" 
 for that most wearing of all newspaper jobs "doing 
 police" for a paper that was "in bad" with the ad- 
 ministration. He needed no one to tell him the cause. 
 At three-thirty, Thomas, and Camden, who was doing 
 the city hall, and Greenleaf Whittier Squiggs, who 
 was subing for the day on the courts, appeared before 
 Jim Brown in an agonized body. Thomas had been 
 scooped on the big murder, Camden and G. W. 
 Squiggs had been scooped, at the city hall and the 
 county building, on the only items worth while, and 
 they were all at white heat ; though it was a great con- 
 solation to Squiggs, after all, to find himself in such 
 distinguished company. 
 
 Brown heard them in silence, and with great sol- 
 emnity conducted them across the hall to Jolter, who 
 also heard them in silence and conducted them into 
 the adjoining room to Bobby. Here Jolter stood 
 back and eyed young Mr. Burnit with great interest 
 as his two experienced veterans and his ambitious
 
 310 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 youngster poured forth their several tales of woe. 
 Bobby, as it became him to be, was much disturbed. 
 
 "How's the circulation of the Bulletin?" he asked 
 of Jolter. 
 
 "Five times what it ever was in its history," re- 
 sponded Jolter. 
 
 "Do you suppose we can hold it?" 
 
 "Possibly." 
 
 "How much does a scoop amount to?" 
 
 "Well," confessed Jolter, with his eyes twinkling, 
 "I hate to tell you before the boys, but my own opin- 
 ion is that we know it and the Chronicle knows it and 
 Stone knows it, but day after to-morrow the public 
 couldn't tell you on its sacred oath whether it read the 
 first account of the murder in the Bulletin or in the 
 Chronicle." 
 
 Bobby heaved a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I always had the impression that a 'beat' meant 
 the death, cortege and cremation of the newspaper 
 that fell behind in the race," he smiled. "Boys, I'm 
 afraid you'll have to stand it for a while. Do the 
 best you can and get beaten as little as possible. By 
 the way, Jolter, I want to see you a minute," and the 
 mournful delegation of three, no whit less mournful 
 because they had been assured that they would not 
 be held accountable for being scooped, filed out. 
 
 "What's the connection," demanded Bobby, the
 
 EDITOR BURNIT'S FIGHT 311 
 
 minute they were alone, "between the police depart- 
 ment and Sam Stone?" 
 
 "Money !" replied Jolter. "Chief of Police Cooley 
 is in reality chief collector. The police graft is one 
 of the richest Stone has. The rake-off from saloons 
 that are supposed to close at one and from crooked 
 gambling joints and illegal resorts of various kinds, 
 amounts, I suppose, to not less than ten to fifteen 
 thousand dollars a week. Of course, the patrolmen 
 get some, but the bulk of it goes to Cooley, who was 
 appointed by Stone, and the biggest slice of all goes 
 to the Boss." 
 
 "Go after Cooley," said Bobby. Then suddenly he 
 struck his fist upon the desk. "Great Heavens, man !" 
 he exclaimed. "At the end of every avenue and street 
 and alley that I turn down with the Bulletin I find an 
 open sewer." 
 
 "The town is pretty well supplied," admitted 
 Jolter. "How do you feel now about your policy?" 
 
 "Pretty well staggered," confessed Bobby; "but 
 we're going through with the thing just the same." 
 
 "It's a man's-size job," declared Jolter; "but if 
 you get away with it the Bulletin will be the best- 
 paying piece of newspaper property west of New 
 York." 
 
 "Not the way the advertising's going," said Bobby, 
 shaking his head and consulting a list on his desk.
 
 312 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Where has Stone a hold on the dry-goods firm of 
 Rolands and Crawford?" 
 
 "They built out circular show-windows, all around 
 their big block, and these extend illegally upon two 
 feet of the sidewalk." 
 
 "And how about the Ebony Jewel Coal Company?" 
 
 "They have been practically allowed to close up 
 Second Street, from Water to Canal, for a dump." 
 
 Bobby sighed hopelessly. 
 
 "We can't fight everybody in town," he com- 
 plained. 
 
 "Yes, but we can !" exclaimed Jolter with a sudden 
 fire that surprised Bobby, since it was the first the 
 managing editor displayed. "Don't weaken, Burnit ! 
 I'm with you in this thing, heart and soul! If we 
 can hold out until next election we will sweep every- 
 thing before us." 
 
 "We will hold out !" declared Bobby. 
 
 "I am so sure of it that I'll stand treat," assented 
 Mr. Jolter with vast enthusiasm, and over an old oak 
 table, in a quiet place, Mr. Jolter and Mr. Burnit, 
 having found the sand in each other's craws, cemented 
 a pretty strong liking.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 AN EXCITING GAME OF TIT FOE TAT WITH HIRED THUGS 
 
 THE Bulletin, continuing its warfare upon 
 Stone and every one who supported him, hit 
 upon names that had never before been men- 
 tioned but in terms of the highest respect, and divers 
 and sundry complacent gentlemen who attended 
 church quite regularly began to look for a cyclone 
 cellar. They were compromised with Stone and they 
 could not placate Bobby. The four banks that had 
 withdrawn their advertisements, after a hasty confer- 
 ence with Stone put them back again the first day 
 their names were mentioned. The business depart- 
 ment of the Bulletin cheerfully accepted those ad- 
 vertisements at the increased rate justified by the 
 Bulletin's increased circulation; but the editorial de- 
 partment just as cheerfully kept castigating the 
 erring conservators of the public money, and the ad- 
 vertisements disappeared again. 
 
 Bobby's days now were beset from a hundred quar- 
 ters with agonized appeals to change his policy. 
 313
 
 314 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 This man and that man and the other man high in 
 commercial and social and political circles came to 
 him with all sorts of pressure, and even Payne Win- 
 throp and Nick Allstyne, two of his particular cro- 
 nies of the Idlers', not being able to catch him at the 
 club any more, came up to his office. 
 
 "This won't do, old man," protested Payne ; "we're 
 missing you at billiards and bridge whist, but your 
 refusal to take part in the coming polo tourney was 
 the last straw. You're getting to be a regular plebe." 
 
 "I am a plebe," admitted Bobby. "What's the 
 use to deny it? My father was a plebe. He came 
 off" the farm with no earthly possessions more valuable 
 than the patches on his trousers. I am one genera- 
 tion from the soil, and since I have turned over a 
 furrow or two, just plain earth smells good to me." 
 
 Both of Bobby's friends laughed. They liked him 
 too well to take him seriously in this. 
 
 "But really," said Nick, returning to the attack, 
 "the boys at the club were talking over the thing and 
 think this rather bad form, this sort of a fight you're 
 making. You're bound to become involved in a nasty 
 controversy." 
 
 "Yes?" inquired Bobby pleasantly. "Watch me 
 become worse involved. More than that, I think I 
 shall come down to the Idlers', when I get things 
 straightened out here, organize a club league and
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 315 
 
 make you fellows march with banners and torch- 
 lights." 
 
 This being a more hilarious joke than the other 
 the boys laughed quite politely, though Payne Win- 
 throp grew immediately serious again. 
 
 "But we can't lose you, Bobby," he insisted. "We 
 want you to quit this sort of business and come back 
 again to the old crowd. There are so few of us left, 
 you know, that we're getting lonesome. Stan Rogers 
 is getting up a glorious hunt and he wants us all to 
 come up to his lodge for a month at least. You should 
 be tired of this by now, anyhow." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," declared Bobby. 
 
 "Oh, of course, you have your money involved," 
 admitted Payne, "and you must play it through on 
 that account; but I'll tell you: if you do want to 
 sell I know where I could find a buyer for you at a 
 profit." 
 
 Bobby turned on him like a flash. 
 
 "Look here, Payne," said he. "Where is your in- 
 terest in this?" 
 
 "My interest?" repeated Payne blankly. 
 
 "Yes, your interest. What have you to gain by 
 having me sell out?" 
 
 "Why, really, Bobby " began Payne, thinking to 
 temporize. 
 
 "You're here for that purpose, and must tell me
 
 316 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 why," insisted Bobby sternly, tapping his finger on 
 the desk. 
 
 "Well, if you must know," stammered Payne, taken 
 out of himself by sheer force of Bobby's manner, 
 "my respected and revered " 
 
 "I see," said Bobby. 
 
 "The the pater is thinking of entering politics 
 next year, and he rather wants an organ." 
 
 "And Nick, where's yours?" 
 
 "Well," confessed Nick, with no more force of 
 reservation than had Payne when mastery was used 
 upon him, "mother's city property and mine, you 
 know, contains some rather tumbledown buildings that 
 are really good for a number of years yet, but which 
 adverse municipal government might might depre- 
 ciate in value." 
 
 "Just a minute," said Bobby, and he sent for 
 Jolter. 
 
 "Ben," he asked, "do you know anything about Mr. 
 Adam Winthrop's political aspirations?" 
 
 "I understand he's being groomed for governor," 
 said Jolter. 
 
 "Meet his son, Mr. Jolter Mr. Payne Winthrop. 
 Also Mr. Nick Allstyne. I suppose Mr. Winthrop 
 is to run on Stone's ticket?" continued Bobby, break- 
 ing in upon the formalities as quickly as possible. 
 
 "Certainly."
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 317 
 
 "Payne," said Bobby, "if your father wants to 
 talk with me about the Bulletin he must come himself. 
 Jolter, do you know where the Allstyne properties 
 are?" 
 
 Jolter looked at Nick and Nick colored. 
 
 "That's rather a blunt question, under the circum- 
 stances, Mr. Burnit," said Jolter, "but I don't see 
 why it shouldn't be answered as bluntly. It's a row 
 of two blocks on the most notorious street of the town, 
 frame shacks that are likely to be the start of a 
 holocaust, any windy night, which will sweep the 
 entire down-town district. They should have been 
 condemned years ago." 
 
 "Nick," said Bobby, "I'll give you one month to 
 dispose of that property, because after that length 
 of time I'm going after it." 
 
 This was but a sample. Bobby had at last become 
 suspicious, and as old John Burnit had shrewdly 
 observed in one of his letters: "It hurts to acquire 
 suspiciousness, but it is quite necessary ; only don't 
 overdo it." 
 
 Bobby, however, was in a field where suspiciousness 
 could scarcely be overdone. When any man came 
 to protest or to use influence on Bobby in his fight, 
 Bobby took the bull by the horns, called for Jolter, 
 who was a mine of information upon local affairs, and 
 promptly found out the reason for that man's inter-
 
 318 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 est; whereupon he either warned him off or attacked 
 him, and made an average of ten good, healthy ene- 
 mies a day. He scared Adam Winthrop out of the 
 political race entirely, he made the Allstynes tear 
 down their fire-traps and erect better-paying and con- 
 sequently more desirable tenements, and he had De 
 Graff and the other involved bankers "staggering in 
 circles and hoarsely barking," as "Bugs" Roach 
 put it. 
 
 So far, Bobby had been subjected to no personal 
 annoyances, but on the day after his first attack on 
 the chief of police he began to be arrested for break- 
 ing the speed laws, and fined the limit, even though he 
 drove his car but eight miles an hour, while his news 
 carriers and his employees were "pinched" upon the 
 most trivial pretexts. Libel suits were brought wher- 
 ever a merchant or an official had a record clear 
 enough to risk such procedure, and three of these 
 suits were decided against him; whereupon Bobby, 
 finding the money chain which bound certain of the 
 judges to Sam Stone, promptly attacked these mem- 
 bers of the judiciary and appealed his cases. 
 
 His very name became a red rag to every member 
 of Stone's crowd ; but up to this point no violence had 
 been offered him. One night, however, as he was driv- 
 ing his own car homeward, men on the watch for him 
 stepped out of an alley mouth two blocks above the
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 319 
 
 Burnit residence and strewed the street thickly with 
 sharp-pointed coil springs. One of these caught a 
 tire, and Bobby, always on the alert for the first sign 
 of such accidents, brought his car to a sudden stop, 
 reached down for his tire- wrench and jumped out. 
 Just as he stooped over to examine the tire, some in- 
 stinct warned him, and he turned quickly to find three 
 men coming upon him from the alley, the nearest one 
 with an uplifted slung-shot. It was with just a 
 glance from the corner of his eye as he turned that 
 Bobby caught the import of the figure towering above 
 him, and then his fine athletic training came in good 
 stead. With a sidewise spring he was out of the 
 sphere of that descending blow, and, swinging with 
 his heavy wrench, caught the fellow a smash upon the 
 temple which laid him unconscious. Before the two 
 other men had time to think, he was upon them and 
 gave one a broken shoulder-blade. The other es- 
 caped. There had been no word from any of the 
 three men which might lead to an explanation of this 
 attack, but Bobby needed no explanation; he divined 
 at once the source from which it came, and in the 
 morning he sent for Biff Bates. 
 
 "Biff," said he, "I spoke once about securing some 
 thugs to act as a counter-irritant against Stone, but 
 I have neglected it. How long will it take to get hold 
 of some?"
 
 320 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Ten minutes, if I wait till dark," replied Biff. "I 
 can go down to the Blue Star, and for ten iron men 
 apiece can get you as fine a bunch of yeggs as ever 
 beat out a cripple's brains with his own wooden leg." 
 
 Bobby smiled. 
 
 "I don't want them to go quite that far," he ob- 
 jected. "Are they men you can depend upon not to 
 sell out to Stone?" 
 
 "Just one way," replied Biff. "The choice line of 
 murderers that hang out down around the levee are 
 half of them sore on Stone, anyhow; but they're 
 afraid of him, and the only way you can use them 
 is to give 'em enough to get 'em out of town. For 
 ten a throw you can buy them body and soul." 
 
 "I'll take about four, to start on duty to-night, and 
 stay on duty till they accomplish what I want done," 
 and Bobby detailed his plan to Biff. 
 
 Stone had one peculiarity. Knowing that he had 
 enemies, and those among the most reckless class in 
 the world, he seldom allowed himself to be caught 
 alone ; but every night he held counsel with some of 
 his followers at a certain respectable beer-garden 
 where, in the summer-time, a long table in a quiet, 
 half -screened corner was reserved for him and his fol- 
 lowers, and in the winter a back room was given up 
 for the same purpose. Here Stone transacted all 
 the real business of his local organization, drinking
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 321 
 
 beer, receiving strange-looking callers, and confining 
 his own remarks to a grunted yes or no, or a brief 
 direction. Every night at about nine-thirty he rose, 
 yawned, and, unattended, walked back through the 
 beer-garden to the alley, where he stood for some five 
 minutes. This was his retreat for uninterrupted 
 thought, and when he came back from it he had the 
 day's developments summed up and the necessary 
 course of action resolved upon. 
 
 On the second night after the attempted assault 
 upon Bobby he had no sooner closed the alley door 
 behind him than a man sprang upon him from either 
 side, a heavy hand was placed over his mouth, and he 
 was dragged to the ground, where a third brawny 
 thug straddled his chest and showed him a long 
 knife. 
 
 "See it?" demanded the man as he passed the blade 
 before Stone's eyes. "It's hungry. You let 'em clip 
 my brother in stir for a three-stretch when you could 
 have saved him with a grunt, and if I wasn't workin' 
 under orders, in half an hour they'd have you on slab 
 six with ice packed around you and a sheet over you. 
 But we're under orders. We're part of the reform 
 committee, we are," and all three of them laughed 
 silently, "and there's a string of us longer than the 
 Christmas bread-line, all crazy for a piece of this get- 
 away coin. And here's the little message I got to
 
 322 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 give you. This time you're to go free. Next time 
 you're to have your head beat off. This thuggin' of 
 peaceable citizens has got to be stopped; see?" 
 
 A low whistle from a man stationed at the mouth of 
 the alley interrupted the speech which the man with 
 the knife was enjoying so much, and he sprang from 
 the chest of Stone, who had been struggling vainly 
 all this time. As the man sprang up and started to 
 run, he suddenly whirled and gave Stone a vicious 
 kick upon the hip, and as Stone rose, another man 
 kicked him in the ribs. All three of them ran, and 
 Stone, scrambling to his feet with difficulty, whipped 
 his revolver from his pocket and snapped it. Long 
 disused, however, the trigger stuck, but he took after 
 them on foot in spite of the pain of the two fearful 
 kicks that he had received. Instead of darting 
 straight out of the alley, the men turned in at a small 
 gate at the side of a narrow building on the corner, 
 and slammed the gate behind them. He could hear 
 the drop of the wooden bolt. He knew perfectly that 
 entrance. It was to the littered back yard of a cheap 
 Saloon, at the side of which ran a narrow passageway 
 to the street beyond, where street-cars passed every 
 half-minute. 
 
 Just as he came furiously up to the gate a police- 
 man darted in at the alley mouth, and, catching the 
 glint of Stone's revolver, whipped his own. He
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 323 
 
 / 
 
 ran quite fearlessly to Stone, and with a 3extrous 
 blow upon the wrist sent the revolver spinning. 
 
 "You're under arrest," said he. 
 
 For just one second he covered his man, then his 
 arm dropped and his jaw opened in astonishment. 
 
 "Why, it's Stone !" he exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes, damn you, it's Stone!" screamed the Boss, 
 livid with fury, and overcome with anger he dealt the 
 policeman a staggering blow in the face. "You 
 damned flat-foot, I'll teach you to notice who you put 
 your hands on ! Give me that badge !" 
 
 White-faced and with trembling fingers, and with a 
 trickle of blood starting slowly from a cut upon his 
 cheek, the man unfastened his badge. 
 
 "Now, go back to Cooley and tell him I broke you," 
 Stone ordered, and turned on his heel. 
 
 By the time he reached the back door of the beer- 
 garden he was limping most painfully, but when he 
 rejoined his crowd he said nothing of the incident. 
 In the brief time that it had taken him to go from 
 the alley mouth to that table he had divined the sig- 
 nificance of the whole thing. For the first time in 
 his career he knew himself to be a systematically 
 marked man, as he had systematically marked others ; 
 and he was not beyond reason. Thereafter, Bobby 
 Burnit was in no more jeopardy from hired thugs, 
 and for a solid year he kept up his fight, with plenty
 
 324 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 of material to last him for still another twelvemonth. 
 It was a year which improved him in many ways, but 
 Aunt Constance Elliston objected to the improvement. 
 
 "Bobby, they are spoiling you," she complained. 
 "They're taking your suavity away from you, and 
 you're acquiring grim, hard lines around your 
 mouth." 
 
 "They're making him," declared Agnes, looking 
 fondly across at the firm face and into the clear, un- 
 wavering eyes. 
 
 Bobby answered the look of Agnes with one that 
 needed no words to interpret, and laughed at Aunt 
 Constance. 
 
 "I suppose they are spoiling me," he confessed, 
 "and I'm glad of it. I'm glad, above all, that I'm 
 losing the sort of suavity which led me to smile and 
 tell a man politely to take it, when he reached his 
 hand into my pocket for my money." 
 
 "You'll do," agreed Uncle Dan. "When you took 
 hold of the Bulletin, your best friends only gave you 
 two months. But are you making any money?" 
 
 Bobby's face clouded. 
 
 "Spending it like water. We have practically no 
 advertising, and a larger circulation than I want. 
 We lose money on every copy of the paper that we 
 sell." 
 
 Uncle Dan shook his head.
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 325 
 
 "Is there a chance that you will ever get it back?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Bobby's so used to failure that he doesn't mind," 
 interjected Aunt Constance. 
 
 ; "Mind!" exclaimed Bobby. "I never minded it 
 so much in my life as I do now. The Bulletin must 
 win. I'm bound that it shall win! If we come out 
 ahead in our fight against Stone I'll get all my ad- 
 vertising back, and I'll keep my circulation, which 
 makes advertising rates." 
 
 The telephone bell rang in the study adjoining 
 the dining-room, and Bobby, who had been more or 
 less distrait all evening, half rose from his chair. 
 In a moment more the maid informed them that the 
 call was for Mr. Burnit. In the study they could hear 
 his voice, excited and exultant. He returned as de- 
 lighted as a school-boy. 
 
 "Now I can tell you something," he announced. 
 "Within five minutes the Bulletin will have exclusive 
 extras on the street, announcing that the legislature 
 has just appointed a committee to investigate munici- 
 pal affairs throughout the state. That means this 
 town. I have spent ten thousand dollars in lobbying 
 that measure through, and charged it all to 'improve- 
 ments' on the Bulletin. Sounds like I had joined the 
 ranks of the <boodlers,' don't it? Well, I don't give a 
 cooky for ethics so long as I know I'm right. I'd
 
 326 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 have been a simp, as Biff Bates calls it, to go among 
 that crowd of hungry law jugglers with kind words 
 and the ten commandments. I'm not using cross- 
 bows against cannon, and as a result I'm winning. 
 I got my measure through, and now I think we'll put 
 Stone and his crew of freebooters on the grill, with 
 some extra-hot coals for my friend De Graff and the 
 other saintly sinners who have been playing into 
 Stone's hands. I have been working a year for this, 
 and the entire politics of this town, with wide-reaching 
 results in the state, is disrupted." 
 
 "You selfish boy," chided Aunt Constance. "You 
 have been here with us for more than an hour, ex- 
 pecting this all the time, and have not breathed one 
 word of it to us. Don't you trust anybody any 
 more?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," replied Bobby easily; "but only when 
 it is necessary." 
 
 Agnes smiled across at him in calm content. She 
 had but very little to say now. She was in that bliss- 
 ful happiness that comes to any woman when the man 
 most in her mind is reaping his meed of success from 
 a, long and hard-fought battle. 
 
 "Spoken like your father, Bobby," laughed Uncle 
 Dan. "You're coming to look more and more like him 
 every day. You talk like him and act like him. You 
 have the same snap of your jaws. Your father, how-
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 327 
 
 ever, never 'dabbled in politics. He always despised 
 it, and I see you're bound to be knee-deep in it." 
 
 "My father would have succeeded in politics," said 
 Bobby confidently, "as he succeeded in everything 
 else, after he once got started. I have his confession 
 in writing, however, that he made a few fool mistakes 
 himself along at first. As for politics, I am in it 
 knee-deep, and I'm going to elect my own slate next 
 fall." 
 
 "Another reform party, of course," suggested 
 Uncle Dan with a smile. 
 
 "Not for Bobby," replied that decided young gen- 
 tleman. "I am forming an affiliation with Cal Lewis." 
 
 "Cal Lewis !" exclaimed Uncle Dan aghast. Then 
 he closed his eyes and laughed softly. "As notorious 
 in his way as Sam Stone himself. Why, Bobby, that's 
 fighting fire with gasolene." 
 
 "It's setting a thief to catcH a thief. You must 
 remember that for fifteen years Cal hasn't had any 
 of the pie except in a minor way, and all this time 
 he's been fighting Stone tooth and toe-nail. The late 
 reform movement, which failed so lamentably to carry 
 out its gaudy promises after it had won, left him en- 
 tirely out of its calculations, and Lewis actually 
 joined with Stone in overturning it. I propose to use 
 Lewis' knowledge of political machinery, but in my 
 own way. As a matter of fact, I have already en-
 
 328 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 gaged him and put him on salary ; a good, stiff one, 
 too. His business is to organize my political machine. 
 I'm going to have a slate of clean men, who will not 
 only conduct the business of this county and city with 
 probity but with discretion, and I do not mind telling 
 you that my candidate for mayor is Chalmers." 
 
 Agnes gave a little cry of delight, and even Aunt 
 Constance clapped her hands lightly, for Chalmers, a 
 young lawyer of excellent social connections, was a 
 prime favorite with the Ellistons, and in the business 
 he had transacted for the Burnit estate Bobby had 
 found in him sterling qualities. 
 
 "Chalmers is a good man," agreed Uncle Dan, 
 "though he is young, and practically without political 
 influence ; but, if you can make him mayor, I predict 
 a brilliant political future for him." 
 
 "He will have it," said Bobby confidently, "for I 
 intend to make him the attorney for the investigating 
 committee, and through his work I expect to have 
 not less than a hundred thousand dollars of stolen 
 money turned back into the city and county 
 treasuries." 
 
 As Bobby announced this he rose mechanically, 
 and, still absorbed in the details of his big fight, 
 walked out into the hall. It was not until he had his 
 coat on and his hat in his hand that he came to him- 
 self ; and with the deepest confusion found that he had
 
 AN EXCITING GAME 329 
 
 been about to walk out without making any adieus 
 whatever. 
 
 "Why, where are you going?" inquired Agnes, as 
 he came back into the drawing-room. 
 
 He laughed sheepishly. 
 
 "Why," he explained, "ever since I received that 
 telephone message I have been seeing before me the 
 Bulletin extra that they are throwing on the street 
 right now, and I forgot everything else. I'll simply 
 have to go down and hold a copy of it in my hands." 
 
 "You're just a big boy," laughed Aunt Constance. 
 "Will you ever grow up?" 
 
 "I hope not," declared Agnes, and taking his arm 
 she strolled with him to the door in perfect peace and 
 confidence.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 MR. STONE LEAVES BOBBY A PARTING COMMISSION AND 
 A LEFT-HANDED BLESSING 
 
 IT looked good to Bobby, that late extra of the 
 Bulletin, and the force that he had kept on duty 
 to get it out greeted him, as he walked through 
 the office, with a running fire of comment and con- 
 gratulation that was almost like applause. He had 
 bought a copy on the street as he came in, and as he 
 spread it out there came upon him a thrill of realiza- 
 tion that this ought to be the beginning of the end. 
 
 It was. The fact that Bobby, through the Bui* 
 letln, had forced this action, made him a power to be 
 reckoned with ; and straws, whole bales of them, began 
 to show which way the wind was blowing. 
 
 One morning a delegation headed by the Reverend 
 Doctor Larynx waited upon him. The Reverend 
 Doctor was a minister of great ingenuity and force, 
 who sought the salvation of souls through such vital 
 topics as Shall Men Go Coatless in Summer? The 
 Justice of Three-Cent Car Fares, and The Billboards 
 330
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION 331 
 
 i 
 
 Must Go. All public questions, civic, state or na- 
 tional, were thoroughly thrashed out in the pulpit 
 of the Reverend Larynx, and turned adrift with the 
 seal of his condemnation or approval duly fixed upon 
 them ; and he managed to get his name and picture in 
 the papers almost as often as the man who took 
 eighty-seven bottles of Elixo and still survived. With 
 him were four thoroughly respectable men of busi- 
 ness, two of whom wore side-whiskers and the other 
 two of whom wore white bow-ties, 
 
 "Fine business, Mr. Burnit," said the Reverend 
 Doctor Larynx in a loud, hearty voice, advancing 
 with three strides and clasping Bobby's hand in a 
 vise-like grip ; for he was a red-blooded minister, was 
 the Reverend Doctor Larynx, and he believed in 
 getting down among the "pee-pul." "The Bulletin 
 has proved itself a mighty fine engine of reform, and 
 the reputable citizens of this municipality now see a 
 ray of hope before them." 
 
 "I'm afraid that the reputable citizens," ventured 
 Bobby, "have no one but themselves to blame for their 
 past hopeless condition. They're too selfish to vote." 
 
 "You have hit the nail on the head," declaimed the 
 Reverend Larynx with a loud, hearty laugh, "but 
 the Bulletin will rouse them to a sense of duty. Last 
 night, Mr. Burnit, the Utopian Club was formed with 
 an initial membership of over seventy, and it selected
 
 332 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 a candidate for mayor of whom' the Bulletin is bound 
 to approve. Shake hands with Mr. Freedom, the 
 Utopian Club's candidate for mayor, Mr. Burnit." 
 
 Bobby shook hands with Mr. Freedom quite nicely, 
 and studied him curiously. 
 
 He was one of the two who wore side-whiskers and 
 a habitual Prince Albert, and he displayed a phe- 
 nomenal length from lower lip to chin, which, by 
 reason of his extremely high and narrow forehead, 
 gave his features the appearance of being grouped in 
 tiny spots somewhere near the center of a long, yellow 
 cylinder. Mr. Freedom, he afterward ascertained, 
 was a respectable singing-teacher. 
 
 "Professor Freedom," went on the Reverend Doctor 
 Larynx, still loudly and heartily, "has the time to 
 devote to this office, as well as the ideal qualifications. 
 He has no vices whatever. He does not even smoke 
 nor use tobacco in any form, and under his regime 
 the saloons of this town would be turned into vacant 
 store-rooms, if there are laws to make possible such 
 action." 
 
 "I do not want the saloons put out of business," 
 declared Bobby. "I merely want them vacated at 
 twelve every night, without exception." 
 
 When Doctor Larynx and his delegation went away 
 in wrath the leader was already preparing his sermon 
 upon The Iniquity of the Sons of Rich Fathers.
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION 333 
 
 On the following day a delegation from the busi- 
 ness men's club waited upon him. The business men's 
 club wanted a business administration. This crowd 
 Bobby handled differently. Upon his desk, tabulated 
 in advance against just such an emergency, he had 
 statistics concerning all the business men's adminis- 
 trations that had been tried in various cities, and he 
 submitted this statement without argument. It 
 needed none. 
 
 "Politics is in itself a distinct business," he ex- 
 plained. "You would not one of you take up the 
 duties of a surveyor without previous training. The 
 only trouble is that there are no restrictions placed 
 upon politicians. I propose to use them, but to regu- 
 late them." 
 
 He did not convert the delegation by this one inter- 
 view, but he did by cultivating these men and others 
 of their kind separately. He ate luncheons and din- 
 ners with them at the Traders' Club, played billiards 
 with them, smoked and talked with them ; and the bur- 
 den of his talk was Chalmers. When he finally got 
 ready for his campaign the business men were with 
 him unanimously, at least outwardly. Inwardly, there 
 were reservations, for the matter of special privileges 
 was one to be very gravely considered; and special 
 privileges, at a price not entirely prohibitive, was the 
 bulwark of Stone's regime.
 
 334 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "But the Stone regime," Bobby advised them, 
 coming brutally to the point and telling them what he 
 knew of their own affairs and Stone's, "is about to 
 come to an end. The handwriting is on the wall, and 
 you might just as well climb into the band wagon, 
 for at last I have the public on my side." 
 
 At last he had. For a solid year he had been try- 
 ing to understand the peculiar apathy of the public, 
 and he did not understand it yet. They seemed to 
 like Stone and to look upon his wholesale corruption 
 as a joke; but by constant hammering, by showing 
 the unredeemable cussedness of Stone and his crowd, 
 he had produced some impression an impression that, 
 alas ! was of the surface only until the investigating 
 committee began its sessions. When it became under- 
 stood, however, that certain of the thieves might actu- 
 ally be sent to the penitentiary, then who so loud in 
 their denunciation as the public? Why, Stone had 
 robbed them right and left ; why, Stone was an enemy 
 to mankind ; why, Stone and all his friends were mon- 
 sters whom it were a good and a holy thing to skewer 
 and flay and cast into everlasting brimstone ! 
 
 Facts were uncovered that set the entire city in tur- 
 moil. More than fifty men who had never been born 
 had been carried upon the city and county pay-rolls, 
 and half of their salaries went directly into Stone's 
 pocket, the other half going to the men who conducted
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION 335 
 
 this paying enterprise. Contracts for city paving 
 and other improvements were let to favored bidders 
 at an enormous figure, and Stone personally had one- 
 fourth of the huge profits on "scamped" work, an- 
 other fourth going to those who arranged the details 
 and did the collecting. Innumerable instances of 
 this sort were brought out; but the biggest scandal 
 of all, in that it involved men who should have been 
 unassailable, was that of the banks. The relentless 
 probe brought out the fact that all city and county 
 funds had been distributed among four banks, the 
 deposits yielding no revenue whatever to either com- 
 monwealth. These funds, however, had paid pri- 
 vately two per cent, interest, and this interest was 
 paid in cash, in sealed envelopes, to the city and 
 county auditors and treasurers, who took the envelopes 
 unbroken to Stone for distribution. The amounts 
 thus diverted from the proper channels totaled to an 
 enormous figure, and, as this money was the most di- 
 rect and approachable, Chalmers, who had the inter- 
 esting role of inquisitor, set out to get it. The offi- 
 cials who had been longest at the crib, grown incau- 
 tious were now men of property, and by the use of 
 red-hot pincers Chalmers was able to restore nearly 
 sixty thousand dollars of stolen money, with the possi- 
 bility of more in sight. 
 
 It was upon the heels of this that Chalmers' candi-
 
 336 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 dacy for mayor was announced, and the manner in 
 which the Stone machine dropped to pieces was laugh- 
 able. Chalmers, and the entire slate so carefully 
 prepared by Bobby in conjunction with the shrewd 
 old fox, Cal Lewis, won by a majority so overwhelm- 
 ing as to be almost unanimous. Immediately upon 
 Chalmers' election heads began to drop, and the first 
 to go was Cooley, chief of police, in whom, four years 
 later, Bobby recognized the driver of his ice wagon. 
 Coincident with the election came well-founded rumors 
 of grand jury indictments. Two of Stone's closest 
 and busiest lieutenants, who were most in danger of 
 being presented with nice new suits of striped cloth- 
 ing, quietly converted their entire property into 
 cash and then just as quietly slipped away to Hon- 
 duras. 
 
 Late one afternoon, as Bobby sat alone in his room 
 in the almost deserted Bulletin building, so worried 
 over his business affairs that he had no time for ela- 
 tion over his political and personal triumphs, the door 
 opened and Stone stood before him. The pouches 
 under Stone's eyes were heavier and darker, his cheeks 
 drooped flabbily and he seemed to have fallen away 
 inside his clothes, but upon his face there sat the same 
 stern impassiveness. Bobby instantly rose, having 
 good cause to want to be well planted upon his feet 
 with this man near him. Stone carefully closed the
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION 337 
 
 door behind him and advanced to the other side of 
 Bobby's desk. 
 
 "Well, you win," he said huskily. 
 
 Bobby drew a long breath. 
 
 "It has cost me a lot of money, Mr. Stone. It has 
 left me almost flat broke but I got you." 
 
 "I give you credit," admitted Stone. "I didn't 
 think anybody could do it, least of all a kid ; but you 
 got me and you got me good. It's been a hard fight 
 for all of us, I guess. I'm a little run down," and he 
 hesitated curiously ; "my doctor says I got to take an 
 ocean trip." He suddenly blazed out: "Damn it, 
 you might as well be told ! I'm running away !" 
 
 Bobby found himself silent. For two years he had 
 planned and hoped for this moment of victory. Now 
 that the exultant moment had come he found himself 
 feeling strangely sorry for this big man, in spite 
 of his unutterable rascality. 
 
 "I ain't coming back," Stone went on after a pause, 
 "and there's something I want to ask you to do for 
 me." 
 
 "I should be glad to do it, Mr. Stone, if it is any- 
 thing I can allow myself to do." 
 
 "Aw, cut it!" growled Stone. "Look here. I got 
 a list of some poor mutts I been looking out for, and 
 I've just set aside a wad to keep it going. I want you 
 to look after 'em and see that the money gets spread
 
 338 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 around right. I know you're square. I don't know 
 anybody else to give it to." 
 
 To Bobby he handed a list of some fifty names and 
 addresses, with monthly amounts set down opposite 
 them. They were widows and orphans and helpless 
 creatures of all sorts and conditions, blind and deaf 
 and crippled, whom Stone, in the great passion that 
 every man has for some one to love and revere him, 
 and in the secret tenderness inseparable from all big 
 natures, had made his pensioners. 
 
 "There ain't a soul on earth knows about these but 
 me, and every one of 'em is wise to it that if they ever 
 blat a word about it the pap's cut off. I don't want a 
 thing, not even a hint, printed about this see? I 
 ain't afraid that you'll use it in the paper after me 
 asking you not to, so I don't ask you for any 
 promise." 
 
 "I'll do it with pleasure," offered Bobby. 
 
 "Well, I guess that's about all," said Stone, and 
 turned to go. 
 
 Bobby came from behind his desk. 
 
 "After all, Stone," he said, with some hesitation, 
 "I'm sorry to lose an enemy so worth while. I wish 
 you good luck wherever you are going," and he held 
 out his hand. 
 
 Stone looked at the proffered hand and shook his 
 head.
 
 I'd rather smash your face
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION 339 
 
 "I'd rather smash your face," he growled, and 
 passed out of the door. 
 
 It was the last that Bobby ever saw of him, and all 
 that the Bulletin carried about his flight was the 
 "fact," not at all too prominently displayed for the 
 man's importance as a public figure, that Stone's 
 health was in jeopardy and that he was about to take 
 an ocean voyage upon the advice of his physician; 
 and on that day Stone's picture disappeared from the 
 place it had occupied upon the front page of the 
 Bulletin. 
 
 It was a victory complete and final, but it was not 
 without its sting, for on that same day Bobby faced 
 an empty exchequer. It was Johnson who brought 
 him the sad but not at all unexpected tidings, at a 
 moment when Chalmers and Agnes happened to be in 
 the office. Seeing them, Johnson hesitated at the 
 door. 
 
 "What is it, Johnson?" asked Bobby. 
 
 "Oh, nothing much," said Mr. Johnson witH a 
 pained expression. "I'll come back again." 
 
 He had a sheet of paper with him and Bobby held 
 out his hand for it. Still hesitating, old Johnson 
 brought it forward and laid it down on Bobby's desk. 
 
 "You know you told me, sir, to bring this to you." 
 
 Had the others not been present he would have 
 added the reminder that he had been instructed to
 
 340 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT. 
 
 bring this statement a week in advance of the time 
 when Bobby should no longer be able to meet his pay- 
 roll. Bobby looked up from the statement without 
 any thought of reserve before these three* 
 
 "Well, it's come. I'm broke." 
 
 "Not so much a calamity in this instance as it has 
 been in others," said Agnes sagely. "Fortunately, 
 your trustee is right here, and your trustee's lawyer, 
 who has two hundred and fifty thousand dollars still 
 to your account." 
 
 Bobby listened in frowning silence, and old John- 
 son, who had prepared himself before he came up- 
 stairs for such a contingency, quietly laid upon 
 Bobby's desk one of the familiar gray envelopes and 
 withdrew. It was inscribed: 
 
 To My Son Robert, Upon the Turning Over to Him 
 of His Sixth and Last Experimental Fund 
 
 "If a man fails six times he'd better be pensioned 
 and left to live a life of pleasant ease ; for everybody 
 has a right to be happy, and not all can gain happi- 
 ness through their own efforts. So, if you fail this 
 last time, don't worry, my boy, but take measures to 
 cut your garment according to the income from a 
 million and a half dollars, invested so safely that it 
 can yield you but two per cent. If the fault of your 
 ill success lies with anybody it lies with me, and I
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION 341 
 
 blame myself bitterly for it many times as I write 
 this letter. 
 
 "Remember, first, last and always, that I want you 
 to be happy." 
 
 Bobby passed the letter to Agnes and the envelope 
 to Chalmers. 
 
 "This is a little premature," he said, smiling at 
 both of them, "for I'm not applying for the sixth 
 portion." 
 
 Agnes looked up at him in surprise. 
 
 "Not applying for it?" 
 
 "No," he declared, "I don't want it. I understand 
 there is a provision that I can not use two of these 
 portions in the same business." 
 
 Both Chalmers and Agnes nodded. 
 
 "I don't want money for any other business than 
 the Bulletin," declared Bobby, "and if my father has 
 it fixed so that he won't help me as I want to be helped, 
 I don't want it at all." 
 
 "There is another provision about which you per- 
 haps don't know," Chalmers informed him; "if you 
 refuse this money it reverts to the main fund." 
 
 Bobby studied this over thoughtfully. 
 
 "Let it revert," said he. "I'll sink or swim right 
 here." 
 
 The next day he went to his bank and tried to
 
 342 THE MAKING OF, BOBBY] BURNIX 
 
 borrow money. They liked Bobby very much indeed 
 over at the bank. He was a vigorous young man, a 
 young man of affairs, a young man who had won a 
 great public victory, a young man whom it was gen- 
 erally admitted had done the city an incalculable 
 amount of good ; but they could not accept Bobby nor 
 the Bulletin as a business proposition. Had they 
 not seen the original fund dwindle and dwindle for 
 two years until now there was nothing left? Wouldn't 
 another fund dwindle likewise? It is no part of a 
 bank's desire to foreclose upon securities. They are 
 quite well satisfied with just the plain interest. More- 
 over, the Bulletin wasn't such heavy security, anyhow. 
 
 Bobby tried another bank with like results, and 
 also some of his firm business friends at the Traders' 
 Club. In the midst of his dilemma President De Graff 
 of the First National came to him. 
 
 "I understand you have been trying to borrow some 
 money, Burnit?" 
 
 It sounded to Bobby as if De Graff had come to 
 gloat over him, since he had been instrumental in 
 dragging De Graff and the First National through 
 the mire. 
 
 "Yes, sir, I have," he nevertheless answered 
 steadily. 
 
 "Why didn't you come to us ?" demanded De Graff. 
 
 "To you?" said Bobby, amazed. "I never thought
 
 A PARTING COMMISSION, 343 
 
 of you in that connection at all, De Graff, after all 
 that has happened." 
 
 De Graff shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "That was like pulling a tooth. It hurt and one 
 dreaded it, but it was so much better when it was out. 
 Until you jumped into the fight Stone had me under 
 his thumb. The minute the exposure came he had no 
 further hold on me. It is the only questionable thing 
 I ever did in my life, and I'm glad it was exposed. I 
 admire you for it, even though it will hurt me in a 
 business way for a long time to come. But about 
 this money now. How much do you need at the pres- 
 ent time?" 
 
 "I'd like an account of about twenty-five thousand." 
 
 "I can let you have it at once," said De Graff, "and 
 as much more as you need, up to a certain reasonable 
 point that I think will be amply sufficient." 
 
 "Is this Stone's money?" asked Bobby witH sudden 
 suspicion. 
 
 De Graff smiled. 
 
 "No," said he, "it is my own. I have faith in you, 
 Burnit, and faith in the Bulletin. Suppose you step 
 over to the First National with me right away."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 AUNT CONSTANCE ELLISTON LOSES ALL HER PATIENCB 
 WITH A CERTAIN PROSAIC COURTSHIP 
 
 THAT night, with a grave new responsibility 
 upon him and a grave new elation, sturdier 
 and stronger than he had ever been in his 
 life, and more his own master, Bobby went out to see 
 Agnes. 
 
 "Agnes, when my father made you my trustee," 
 he said, "he laid upon you the obligation that you 
 were not to marry me until I had proved myself either 
 a success or a failure, didn't he ?" 
 
 "He did," assented Agnes demurely. 
 
 "But you are no longer my trustee. The last 
 money over which you had nominal control has re- 
 verted to the main fund, which is in the hands of Mr. 
 Barrister ; so that releases you." 
 
 Agnes laughed softly and shook her head. 
 
 "The obligation wasn't part of the trusteeship," 
 she reminded him. 
 
 "But if I choose to construe it that way," he per- 
 sisted, "and declare the obligation null and void, how 
 344
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP. 845 
 
 soon could you get ready to be married to the political 
 boss of this town and one of its leading business men ? 
 Agnes," he went on, suddenly quite serious, "I can 
 not do without you any longer. I have waited long 
 enough. I need you and you must come to me." 
 
 "I'll come if you insist," she said simply, and laid 
 both her hands in his. "But, Bobby, let's think about 
 this a minute. Let's think what it means. I have 
 been thinking of it many, many days, and really and 
 truly I don't like to give up, because of its bearing 
 upon our future strength. Yesterday I drove down 
 Grand Street and looked up at that Trimmer and 
 Company sign, and so long as that is there, Bobby, 
 I could not feel right about our deserting the colors, 
 as it were ; that is, unless you have definitely given up 
 the fight." 
 
 "Given up!" repeated Bobby quickly. "Why, I 
 have just begun. I've been to school all this time, 
 Agnes, and to a hard school, but now I'm sure I have 
 learned my lesson. I have won a fight or two ; I have 
 had the taste of blood; I'm going after more; I'm 
 going to win." 
 
 "I'm sure that you will," she repeated. "Think 
 how much better satisfied we will be after you have 
 done so." 
 
 "Yes, but think, too, of the time it will take," he 
 protested. "First of all I must earn money ; that is,
 
 346 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 I must make the Bulletin pay. I can do that. It is 
 on the edge of earning its way right now, but I owe 
 twenty-five thousand dollars. It is going to take a 
 long, long time for me to win this battle, and in it 
 I need you." 
 
 "I am always right here, Bobby," she reminded him. 
 "I have never failed you when you needed me, have I? 
 But maybe it won't take so long. You say you are 
 going to make the Bulletin pay. If you do that 
 counts for a business success, enough to release you 
 on that side. But really, Bobby, how difficult a task 
 would it be to get back control of your father's 
 store?" 
 
 "Hopeless, just now," said he. 
 
 "How much money would it take?" 
 
 "Well, not so very much in comparison with the 
 business itself," he told her. "I own two hundred and 
 sixty thousand dollars' worth of stock, Trimmer owns 
 two hundred and forty thousand, while sixty thou- 
 sand more are scattered among his relatives and de- 
 pendents. That stock is not for sale, that is the 
 trouble ; but if I could buy twenty-one thousand dol- 
 lars of it I could do what I liked with the entire 
 concern." 
 
 "Then Bobby, let's not think" o'f anything else but 
 how to get that stock. Let's insist on having that for 
 our wedding present."
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP: 347 
 
 Bobby regarded her gravely for a long time. 
 
 "Agnes, you're a brick!" he finally concluded. 
 "You're right, as you have always been. We'll wait. 
 But you don't know, oh, you don't know how hard 
 that is for me !" 
 
 "It is not the easiest thing in the world for me," 
 she gently reminded him. 
 
 From the time that she had laid her hands in his 
 he had held them, and now he had gathered them to 
 him, pressing them upon his breast. Suddenly, over- 
 come by his great longing for her, he clasped her in 
 his arms and held her, and pressed his lips to hers. 
 For a moment she yielded to that embrace and closed 
 her eyes, and then she gently drew away from him. 
 
 "We mustn't indulge in that sort of thing very 
 much," she reminded him, "or we're likely to lose all 
 our good resolutions." 
 
 "Good resolutions," declared Bobby, "are a 
 nuisance." 
 
 She smiled and shook her head. 
 
 "Look at the people who haven't any," she re- 
 minded him. 
 
 It was perhaps half an hour later when an idea 
 which brought with it a smile came to her. 
 
 "We've definitely resolved now to wait until you 
 have either accomplished what you set out to do, or 
 completely failed, haven't we?"
 
 348 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Yes," he assented soberly. 
 
 "Then I'm going to open one of the letters your 
 father left for us. I have been dying with curiosity 
 to know what is in it," and hurrying up to her sec- 
 retary she brought down one of the inevitable gray 
 envelopes, addressed: 
 
 To My Children Upon the Occasion of Their De- 
 ciding to Marry Before the Limit of My 
 Prohibition 
 
 "What I can not for the life of me understand is 
 why the devil you didn't do it longi ago !" 
 
 Bobby was so thoroughly awake to the underlying 
 principle of Agnes' contention that even this letter 
 did nothing to change his viewpoint. 
 
 "For it isn't him, it is us, or rather it is me, who is 
 to be considered," he declared. "But it does seem to 
 me, Agnes, as if for once we had got the better 
 of the governor." 
 
 They were still laughing over the unexpectedness 
 of the letter when Aunt Constance came in, and they 
 showed it to her. 
 
 "Good!" she exclaimed, dwelling longer upon the 
 inscription than upon the letter itself. "I think 
 you're quite sensible, and I'll arrange the finest wed- 
 ding for Agnes that has ever occurred in the Elliston
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP 349 
 
 family. You must give me at least a couple of 
 months, though. When is it to come off? Soon, 
 I suppose?" 
 
 Carefully and patiently they explained the stand 
 they had taken. At first she thought they were 
 joking, and it took considerable reiteration on their 
 part for her to understand that they were not. 
 
 "I declare I have no patience with you!" she 
 avowed. "Of all the humdrum, prosaic people I ever 
 saw, you are the very worst! There is no romance 
 in you. You're as cool about it as if marriage were 
 a commercial partnership. Oh, Dan !" and she called 
 her husband from the library. "Now what do you 
 think of this?" she demanded, and explained the 
 ridiculous attitude of the young people. 
 
 "Great!" decided Uncle Dan. "Allow me to con- 
 gratulate you," and he shook hands heartily with 
 both Agnes and Bobby, whereat Aunt Constance de- 
 nounced him as being a sordid soul of their own 
 stripe and went to bed in a huff. She got up again, 
 however, when she heard Agnes retire to her own 
 room for the night, and came in to wrestle with that 
 young lady in spirit. She found Agnes, however, 
 obdurate in her content, and ended by becoming an 
 enthusiastic supporter of the idea. "Although I did 
 have my heart so set on a fine wedding," she plaint- 
 ively concluded. "I have been planning it for ages."
 
 350 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Just keep on planning, auntie," replied Agnes. 
 "No doubt you will acquire some brilliant new ideas 
 before the time comes." 
 
 So this utterly placid courtship went on in its old 
 tranquil way, with Bobby a constant two and three 
 nights a week visitor to the Elliston home, and with 
 the two young people discussing business more fre- 
 quently than anything else; for Bobby had learned 
 to come to Agnes for counsel in everything. Just 
 now his chief burden of conversation was the letting 
 of the new waterworks contract, which, with public 
 sentiment back of him, he had fought off until after 
 the Stone administration had ended. Hamilton Fer- 
 ris, an old polo antagonist of his, represented one of 
 the competing firms as its president, and Bobby had 
 been most anxious that he should be the successful 
 bidder, as was Agnes ; for Bobby had brought Ferris 
 to dinner at the Ellistons and to call a couple of 
 times during his stay in the city, and all of the Ellis- 
 tons liked him tremendously. Bobby was quite crest- 
 fallen when the opening of the bids proved Ferris 
 to be the second lowest man. 
 
 i "I've tried hard enough for it," declared Ferris 
 (luring a final dinner at the Ellistons that night. 
 "There isn't much doing this year, and I figured 
 closer than anybody in my employ would dared to 
 have done. In view of my estimate I can not for the
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP 351 
 
 life of me see how your local company overbid us 
 all by over a million dollars." 
 
 "It is curious," admitted Bobby, still much puz- 
 zled. 
 
 "It's rather unsportsmanlike in me to whine," re- 
 sumed Ferris, "but I am bound to believe that there 
 is a colored gentleman in the woodpile somewhere." 
 
 "That would be no novelty," returned Bobby. 
 "Ever since I bought the Bulletin I have been gun- 
 ning for Ethiopians amid the fuel and always found 
 them. The Middle West Construction Company, 
 however, is a new load of kindling to me. I never 
 heard of it until it was announced this morning as 
 the lowest bidder." 
 
 "Nobody ever heard of it," asserted Ferris. "It 
 was no doubt organized for the sole purpose of bid- 
 ding on this job. Probably when you delve into the 
 matter you will discover the fine Italian hand of your 
 political boss." 
 
 "Hardly," chuckled Uncle Dan, indulging in his 
 recent propensity to brag on Bobby. "Our local 
 boss was Sam Stone, and Bobby has just succeeded 
 in running him and two of his expert wire workers 
 out of the country." 
 
 "If anybody here is the political boss it is 
 Bobby," observed Agnes, laughing. 
 
 "I'm sorry to have to suspect him," laughed Fer-
 
 352 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 rls. "Well, there is no use crying over spilled milk ; 
 but I had hoped to bring Mrs. Ferris out for a good 
 long visit." 
 
 "Give your wife my regards, Mr. Ferris, and tell 
 her she must come anyhow," insisted Mrs. Elliston. 
 "Since I have heard that you married the daughter 
 of my old schoolmate, I have been wanting the Key- 
 stone Construction Company to have a big contract 
 here more than you have, I think." 
 
 "Sounds very nice, Constance," said her husband 
 dryly, "but I doubt if any woman ever wanted to 
 see the daughter of her old schoolmate as badly as 
 any man ever wanted to make a million dollars. 
 Bobby, I'll make you a small bet. I'll bet your new 
 construction company is composed of the shattered 
 fragments of the old Stone crowd. I'll even bet that 
 Silas Trimmer is in it." 
 
 "If he is," suddenly declared Agnes, "I'm going 
 to go into the detective business," whereat Uncle Dan 
 enjoyed himself hugely. Her vindictiveness when- 
 ever the name of Silas Trimmer was mentioned had 
 become highly amusing to him, in spite of the fact 
 that he admired her for it. 
 
 "Go right ahead," said Bobby approvingly. "If 
 you find anything that will enable me to give that 
 gentleman a financial backset I'll see that you get a 
 handsome reward. In the meantime I'm going to find
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP 353 
 
 out something about the Middle West Construction 
 Company myself." 
 
 Accordingly he asked his managing editor about 
 that concern the first thing in the morning. 
 
 Ben Jolter lit his old pipe, folded his bare arms 
 and patted them alternately in speculative enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 "I have something like two pages of information 
 about them, if we could use it," he announced. "I 
 have been getting reports from the entire scouting 
 brigade ever since the contract was let yesterday, 
 and you may now prepare for a shock. The largest 
 stock-holders of the concern are Silas Trimmer and 
 Frank Sharpe, and the minor stock-holders, almost to 
 a man, consist of those who had their little crack at 
 the public crib under your old, time-tried and true 
 friend, Sam Stone." 
 
 "I admit that I am properly shocked," responded 
 Bobby. 
 
 "It hinges together beautifully," Jolter went on. 
 "The whole waterworks project was a Stone scheme, 
 and Stone people even though Stone himself is 
 wiped out secure the contract. The last expiring 
 act of the Stone administration was to employ Ed 
 Scales as chief engineer until the completion of the 
 waterworks, which may occupy eight or ten years, 
 and the contract with Scales is binding on the city
 
 354) THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 unless he can be impeached for cause. Scales was 
 city engineer under the previous reform spasm, but 
 Stone probably found him good material and kept 
 him on. The waterworks plans were prepared under 
 his supervision and he got them ready for bidding. 
 Now what's the answer?" 
 
 "Easy," returned Bobby. "The city loses." 
 
 "Right," agreed Jolter; "but how? I don't see 
 that we can do anything. Scales, having prepared 
 the plans, is the logical man to see that they are car- 
 ried out, and he is perfectly competent. His record 
 is clean, so that he owns no property, nor does any of 
 his family although that may be because he never 
 had a chance. The Middle West Construction Com- 
 pany, though just incorporated, is financially sound, 
 thoroughly bonded, and, moreover, has put into the 
 hands of the city ample guarantee for its twenty per 
 cent, forfeit as required by the terms of the contract. 
 There isn't a thing that the Bulletin can do except to 
 boost local enterprise with a bit of reservation, then 
 lay low and wait for developments." 
 
 "I dislike to do it," objected Bobby. "It hurts me 
 to think of mentioning Stone or Trimmer in any 
 complimentary way whatsoever." 
 
 Jolter laughed. "You're a fine and consistent 
 enemy," he said. 
 
 "I guess I came by it honestly," smiled Bobby, and
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP 355 
 
 from a drawer in his (desk took one of the gray John 
 Burnit letters. 
 
 " 'Always forgive your enemies,' " read Jolter 
 aloud ; " 'that is, after you are good and even with 
 them.' " 
 
 "Here goes for them, then," said Jolter, passing 
 back the letter with an approving chuckle. "We'll 
 let them go right ahead, and in the meantime the 
 Bulletin will do a lot of real nifty old sleuthing." 
 
 But the Bulletin's sleuthing brought nothing 
 wrong to light, and work upon the big waterworks 
 contract was begun with a rush. 
 
 In the meantime Agnes, true to her threat, was 
 doing some investigating on her own account. She 
 renewed her girlhood acquaintance with Trimmer's 
 daughter, who was now Mrs. Clarence Smythe, and 
 with others of the Trimmer connection, and she saw 
 these women folk frequently for the sole purpose of 
 gathering up any scraps of information that might 
 drop. The best she could gather, however, was that 
 Clarence Smythe and Silas Trimmer were no longer 
 upon very friendly terms; that Mrs. Smythe had 
 quarreled with her father about Clarence; also that 
 Clarence's Trimmer and Company stock was in Mrs. 
 Smythe's name. These scraps of information, slight 
 as they were, she religiously brought to Bobby. 
 When the new waterworks began Agnes saved all the
 
 356 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 newspaper clippings relating to that tremendous un- 
 dertaking, and she frequently drove out there of 
 evenings after the workmen had all gone home ; with 
 just what purpose she could not say, but she felt 
 impelled, as she half -sheepishly confessed to her Uncle 
 Dan, to "keep an eye on the job." She kept up her 
 absurd surveillance in spite of all Uncle Dan's ridi- 
 cule, and one evening she came home in a state of 
 quivering excitement. She called up Bobby at once. 
 
 "Bobby," she wanted to know, "has the city de- 
 cided to cut down expenses on the waterworks, or 
 have the plans been changed for any reason?" 
 
 "Not that the public knows about," replied Bobby. 
 "Why?" 
 
 "The pumping station is not so big as the news- 
 papers said it was to be. It is over thirty feet 
 shorter and over twenty feet narrower." 
 
 "How do you know?" demanded Bobby. 
 
 "I took Wilkins out there with me to-night and 
 had him measure it for me with a yard-stick while the 
 watchman had gone for his supper," replied Agnes 
 triumphantly. 
 
 Bobby stopped to laugh. 
 
 "Impossible," said he. "You have measured it 
 wrong or misunderstood it in some way or other." 
 
 "You go out and measure it for yourself," insisted 
 Agnes.
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP 357 
 
 Partly to humor her and partly because his interest 
 had been aroused, Bobby went out the next night and 
 measured the pumping station, the excavation for 
 which was already completed, and to his astonishment 
 found that Agnes' measurements were correct. He 
 immediately wrote to Ferris about it, told him the 
 present dimensions and asked him upon what basis he 
 had figured. In place of replying Ferris came on. 
 Arriving in the city on Saturday, on Sunday he and 
 Bobby went out to the site, and Ferris examined the 
 new waterworks with a deliberation which well-nigh 
 got him into serious trouble with the watchman. 
 
 "Well, young man, your fair city is stung," de- 
 clared Ferris. "The trenches are not so deep as speci- 
 fied by two feet, and from their width I can tell that 
 the foundation walls are to be at least six inches 
 thinner. I bid on the best grade of Portland cement 
 for that job. It was spelled with a B, however, in my 
 copy of the specification, and I asked your man 
 Scales about it. *Oh,' said he, 'that's a misprint in the 
 typewriting,' and he changed the B to P with a lead 
 pencil. Under that shed are about a thousand barrels 
 of Portland cement. I never heard of that brand, but 
 I can tell cement when I see it, and this stuff will 
 have no more adhesive power than plain mud. Bed- 
 ford stone was specified. They have several car-loads 
 of stone dumped down here which is not Bedford
 
 358 THE MAKING OE BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 stone at all. I could tell a piece of Bedford in the 
 dark. This is an inferior rock which will discolor in 
 six months and will disintegrate in five years." 
 
 Bobby thought the thing over quietly for some 
 minutes. 
 
 "About the dimensions of the building, Ferris, you 
 might possibly be mistaken, might you not?" asked 
 Bobby. 
 
 "Impossible," returned Ferris. "I have not figured 
 on many jobs for years, but our chief estimator had 
 been sent down to Cuba when this thing came up and 
 I did the work myself, so I have a very vivid memory 
 of it and can not possibly have it confused with any 
 other bid. Moreover, we have all those things on 
 record in our office and I looked it up before I came 
 away. The dimensions of the power house and pump- 
 ing station were to be one hundred and ninety by 
 one hundred and sixty feet. The present dimensions 
 are one hundred and fifty-eight by one hundred and 
 thirty-three." 
 
 Bobby was thoughtfully silent for a while. 
 
 "Do you remember who else bid on the contract?'' 
 he inquired presently. 
 
 "Every one of them," smiled Ferris. *'I can give 
 you their addresses and the names of the people to 
 wire to if that is what you want. We meet them on 
 every big job."
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP, 359 
 
 "Do you mind wiring yourself?" asked Bobby. 
 "They would be more apt to give you confidential 
 information." 
 
 "With pleasure," agreed Ferris, and wrote the 
 telegrams. 
 
 On the following morning Bobby received answers 
 at his office to all but one of his telegrams, and the 
 information was unanimous that the original plans 
 had called for a building one hundred and ninety by 
 one hundred and sixty feet. 
 
 "Now I begin to understand," said Ferris. "This 
 was the first set of important plans I ever saw in 
 which the dimensions were not marked, but they were 
 most accurately drawn to scale, one-fourth inch to the 
 foot. They are probably using the same drawings 
 with an altered scale, although it would be an absurdly 
 clumsy trick. If that is the case it is easy to see how 
 the Middle West Construction Company could under- 
 bid us by more than a million dollars and still make 
 more money than we figured on." 
 
 Bobby reached for the telephone. 
 
 "Get me the mayor's office," he calle'd to the girl 
 at his private telephone exchange. "Will you 'stick 
 around' to see the fuss ?" he inquired with grim pleas- 
 ure, as he hung up the receiver. 
 
 Ferris grinned as he noted the light of battle dawn- 
 ing in Bobby's eyes.
 
 360 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I don't know," he replied. "It depends on the 
 size and duration of the fuss." 
 
 "If you don't stay I'll have you subpoenaed. I 
 may have to, anyhow. As for the size of the fuss, 
 I can promise you a bully one if what you surmise 
 is correct." 
 
 His telephone bell rang and Bobby turned to it 
 quickly. 
 
 "Hello, Chalmers !" he began, then laughed. "Beg 
 pardon, Agnes ; I thought it was the mayor's office ;" 
 he apologized, then listened intently. There were a 
 few eager queries, and when Bobby hung up the tele- 
 phone receiver it was with great satisfaction. "I 
 haven't seen as much fun in sight since I began my 
 fight on Stone," he declared. "Miss Elliston, who 
 has developed a marvelous new capacity for finding 
 out other men's business secrets through their women 
 folk, has just telephoned me the results of her last 
 night's detective work. It seems that Silas Trimmer, 
 one of the heavy backers of the Middle West Con- 
 struction Company, has just negotiated a loan upon 
 his stock in the mercantile establishment of Trimmer 
 and Company, my share of which was known as the 
 John Burnit Store until Trimmer beat me out of 
 control. I understand that Trimmer has mortgaged 
 everything to the hilt to go into this waterworks deal." 
 
 The bell rang again. This time it was Chalmers.
 
 A PROSAIC COURTSHIP 361 
 
 "Say, Chalmers," said Bobby, "I want you to get 
 me some sort of a legal document that will allow me 
 to take possession of and examine all the books, 
 papers and drawings of the. city engineer's depart- 
 ment, including the waterworks engineer's office. 
 . . . Yes, you can, Chalmers," he insisted, against 
 an obvious protest. "There is some legal machinery 
 you can put in motion to get it, and I want it right 
 away. Moreover, I want you to secure me somebody 
 to serve the writ and to keep it quiet." 
 
 Then he explained briefly what had been partly 
 discovered and partly surmised. Next Bobby sent 
 for Jolter and laid the facts before him, to the great 
 joy of that aggressive gentleman. Then he called 
 up Biff Bates, and made an appointment with him to 
 meet him at Jimmy Platt's office in half an hour. He 
 would have telephoned Platt, but the engineer had 
 no telephone.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 BIFF RENEWS A PLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE AND BOBBY 
 INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 
 
 <*W-S MR. PLATT in?" 
 
 Biff stood hesitantly in the door when he 
 M found the place occupied only by a brown- 
 haired girl, who was engaged in the quiet, unpro- 
 fessional occupation of embroidering a shirtwaist 
 pattern. 
 
 The girl looked up with a smile at the young 
 man's awkwardness, and felt impelled to put him at 
 his ease. 
 
 "He's not in just now, but I expect him within 
 ten or fifteen minutes at the outside. Won't you sit 
 down, Mr. Bates?" 
 
 He looked at her much mystified at this calling of 
 his name, but he mumbled his thanks for the chair 
 which she put forward for him, and, sitting with his 
 hat upon his knees, contemplated her furtively. 
 
 "I guess you don't remember me," she said in frank 
 enjoyment of his mystification, "but I remember you 
 perfectly. I used to see you quite often out at West- 
 362

 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 363 
 
 marsh when Mr. Burnit was trying to redeem that 
 persistent swamp. I am Mr. Platt's sister." 
 
 "No!" exclaimed Biff in amazement. "You can't 
 be the kid that used to ride on the excavating cars, 
 and go home with yellow clay on your dresses every 
 day." 
 
 "I'm the kid," said she with a musical laugh ; "and 
 I'm afraid I haven't quite outgrown my hoydenish 
 tendencies even yet." 
 
 Biff had no comment to make. He was lost in 
 wonder over that eternal mystery the transforma- 
 tion which occurs when a girl passes from fourteen to 
 eighteen. 
 
 "Don't you remember?" she gaily went on. "You 
 gave me a boxing lesson out there one afternoon and 
 promised to give me more of them, but you never 
 did." 
 
 Biff cleared a sudden huskiness from his throat. 
 
 "I'd be tickled black in the face to make good any 
 day," he urged earnestly, and then hastily corrected 
 the offer to : "That is, I mean I'll be very glad to 
 to finish the job." 
 
 Immediately he turned violently red. 
 
 "I don't seem to care as much for the accomplish- 
 ment as I did then," observed the girl with a smile, 
 "but I do wish I could learn to swing my nice Indian 
 clubs without cracking the back of my head."
 
 364 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I got a medal for club swinging," said Biff diffi- 
 dently. "I'll teach you any time you like. It's easy. 
 Come right over to the gym on Tuesday and Friday 
 forenoons. Those are ladies' mornings, and I've got 
 nothing but real classy people at that." 
 
 The entrance of Mr. Platt interrupted Biff just 
 as he was beginning to feel at ease, and threw that 
 young gentleman, who always appropriated and ab- 
 sorbed other people's troubles, into much concern ; 
 for Mr. Platt was hollow-eyed and sunken-cheeked 
 from worry. His coat was very shiny, and his hat 
 was shabby. The dusty and neglected drawing on 
 his crude drawing-table told the story all too well. 
 The engineering business, so far as Mr. Platt was 
 concerned, seemed to be a total failure. Neverthe- 
 less, he greeted Mr. Bates warmly, and inquired after 
 Mr. Burnit. 
 
 "He's always fine," said Biff. "He had me come 
 up here to meet him." 
 
 "I should scarcely think he would care to come 
 here after the unfortunate outcome of the work I did 
 for him," said Mr. Platt. 
 
 "You mean on old Applerod's Subtraction?" 
 
 "You couldn't hardly call it the Applerod Addition, 
 could you?" responded Jimmy with a smile. "That 
 was a most unlucky transaction for me as well as 
 for Mr. Burnit."
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 365 
 
 Biff looked about the room comprehendingly. 
 
 "I guess it put you on the hummer, all right," 
 said he. "It don't look as if you done anything 
 since." 
 
 "But very little," confessed Mr. Platt. "My fail- 
 ure on that job hurt my reputation almost fatally." 
 
 Biff gravely sought within himself for words of 
 consolation, one of his fleeting ideas being to engage 
 Mr. Platt on the spot to survey the site of Bates' 
 Athletic Hall, although there was not the slightest 
 possible need for such a survey. In the midst of his 
 sympathetic gloom came in Mr. Ferris and Bobby. 
 
 " Jimmy, how would you like to be chief construc- 
 tion engineer of the new waterworks?" asked Bobby, 
 with scant waste of time, after he had introduced 
 Ferris. 
 
 Mr. Platt gasped and paled. 
 
 "I think I could be urged, from a sense of public 
 (duty, to give up my highly lucrative private prac- 
 tice," he said with a pitiful attempt at levity, though 
 his voice was husky, and his tightly clenched hand, 
 where the white knuckles rested upon his drawing- 
 table, trembled. 
 
 "Don't build up too much hope on it, Jimmy; 
 but if what we surmise is correct you will have a 
 chance at it," and he briefly explained. "We're going 
 right out there," concluded Bobby, "and I want you
 
 366 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 to go along to help Investigate. We have to find some 
 incriminating evidence, and you'd be more likely to 
 know how and where to look for it than any of us." 
 
 It is needless to say that Jimmy Platt took his hat 
 with alacrity. Before he went out, with new hope 
 in his heart, he turned and shook hands ecstatically 
 with his sister. Still holding Jimmy's hand she 
 turned to Bobby impulsively: 
 
 "I do hope, Mr. Burnit, that this turns out right 
 for Jimmy." 
 
 Bobby turned to her abruptly and with a trace of a 
 frown. It was a rather poorly trained office em- 
 ployee, he thought, who would intrude herself into 
 conversation that it was her duty to forget, but Biff 
 Bates caught that look and stepped into the breach. 
 
 "This is Nellie, Bobby that is, it used to be Nel- 
 lie," he stated with a quick correction, and blushed vio- 
 lently. 
 
 "It is Nellie still," laughed that young lady to 
 Bobby, and the puzzled look upon his face was swiftly 
 driven away by a smile, as he suddenly recognized in 
 her traces of the long-legged girl who had been always 
 present at the Applerod Addition, who had ridden in 
 his automobile, and had confided to him most volubly, 
 upon innumerable occasions, that her brother Jimmy 
 was about the smartest man who ever sighted through 
 a transit.
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 367 
 
 In the hastily constructed frame office out at the 
 waterworks site, Ed Scales, pale and emaciated and 
 with black rings under his eyes, looked up nervously 
 as Bobby's little army, reenforced from four to six by 
 the addition of a "plain clothes man" and Dillingham, 
 the Bulletin's star reporter, invaded the place. Before 
 a word was spoken, Feeney, the plain clothes man, 
 presented Scales with a writ, which the latter at- 
 tempted to read with unseeing eyes, his fingers trem- 
 bling. 
 
 "What does this mean?" 
 
 "That I have come to take possession," said Bobby, 
 "with power to make an examination of every scrap of 
 paper in the place. Frankly, Scales, we expect to find 
 something crooked about the waterworks contract. If 
 we do you know the result. If we do not, the inter- 
 ruption will be only temporary, and you will have 
 very pretty grounds for action; for I am taking a 
 long shot, and if I don't find what I am after I have 
 put myself and the mayor into a bad scrape." 
 
 Scales thrice opened his mouth to speak, and thrice 
 there came no sound from his lips. Then he laid a 
 bunch of keys upon his desk, shoving them toward 
 Feeney, and rose. He half -staggered into the large 
 coat room behind him. He had scarcely more than 
 disappeared when there was the startling roar of a 
 shot, and the body of Scales, with a round hole in the
 
 368 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 temple, toppled, face downward, out of the door. It 
 was Scales' tragic confession of guilt. They sprang 
 instantly to him, but nothing could be done for him. 
 He was dead when they reached him. 
 
 "Poor devil," said Ferris brokenly. "It is prob- 
 ably the first crooked thing he ever did in his life, 
 and he hadn't nerve enough to go through with it. 
 I feel like a murderer for my share in the matter." 
 
 Bobby, too, had turned sick; his senses swam and 
 he felt numb and cold. He was aroused by a calm, 
 dispassionate voice at the telephone. It was Dilling- 
 ham, sending to the Bulletin a. carefully lurid account 
 of the tragedy, and of the probable causes leading 
 up to it. 
 
 "We'll have an extra on the street in five minutes," 
 he told Bobby with satisfaction as he rose. "That 
 means that the Chronicle men will come out in a 
 swarm, but it will take them a half -hour to get here. 
 We have that much time, then, to dig up the evidence 
 we are after, and if we hustle we can have a second 
 extra out before the Chronicle can get a line. It's 
 the biggest beat in years. Come on, boys, let's get 
 busy," and he took up the keys that Scales had left 
 on the desk. 
 
 Dillingham had no sooner left the telephone than 
 Feeney took up the receiver and called for a num- 
 ber. The reporter turned upon him like a flash,
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 369 
 
 recognizing that call as the number of the coroner's 
 office. Dillingham suddenly caught himself before 
 he had spoken, and looked hastily about the room. 
 In the corner near the floor was a little box with the 
 familiar bells upon it, and binding screws that held 
 the wires. Quickly Dillingham slipped over to that 
 corner just as Feeney was saying: 
 
 "Hello! Coroner's office, this is Feeney. Is that 
 you, Jack? , . . Well " 
 
 At that instant Dillingham loosened a binding 
 screw and slipped off the loop of the wire. 
 
 "Hello, coroner !" repeated Feeney. "I say, Jack ! 
 Hello! Hello! Hello, there! Hello! Hello!" Then 
 Feeney pounded the mouthpiece, jerked the receiver 
 hook up and down, yelled at exchange, and worked 
 himself into a vast fever. 
 
 "What's the matter with this thing, anyhow, Dill?" 
 he finally demanded. 
 
 "Exchange probably went to sleep on you," said 
 Dillingham. 
 
 Easily he was now opening one by one the im- 
 mense flat drawers of a drawing-case, and with much 
 interest delving into the huge drawings that it con- 
 tained. 
 
 "Come here, Mr. Platt," Dillingham went on. 
 "You cast your eagle eye over these drawings while 
 I do a little job of interviewing," and he walked over
 
 370 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 to the employees of the office, who, since they had 
 been roughly warned by Feeney not to go near "that 
 body," had huddled, scared and limp, in the far corner 
 of the room. 
 
 Perspiring and angry, Feeney tried for five solid 
 minutes to obtain some response from the dead tele- 
 phone, then he gave it up. 
 
 "I've got to go out and hunt up another 'phone," 
 he declared. "Biff, I'll appoint you my deputy. 
 Don't let anybody touch the corpse till the coroner 
 comes." 
 
 "I'll go with you," said Bobby hastily, very glad 
 to leave the room, and both he and Mr. Ferris ac- 
 companied Feeney. No sooner was Feeney out of the 
 place than Dillingham reconnected the telephone and 
 went back to his investigations. He was thoroughly 
 satisfied, after a few questions, that the present em- 
 ployees knew nothing whatever, and Platt reported 
 to him that every general drawing he could find was 
 marked three-tenths inch to the foot, none being 
 marked one-fourth. 
 
 "That doesn't matter so much," mused Dillingham. 
 "It will be easy enough to prove that these are the 
 same drawings that were provided the contestants, 
 and six firms will swear that they were marked one- 
 fourth of an inch to the foot. What we have to do 
 is to prove that the drawings the Middle West Com-
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A 'TRAGEDY 371 
 
 pany used as the basis of their bid were marked one- 
 fourth inch to the foot." 
 
 The telephone bell rang violently while Dillingham 
 was puzzling over this matter, and one of the em- 
 ployees started to answer it. 
 
 "No, you don't !" shouted Dillingham. '"You fel- 
 lows are dispossessed." 
 
 He took down the receiver. 
 
 "Waterworks engineer's office?" came a brisk voice 
 through the telephone. 
 
 "Yes," said Dillingham. 
 
 "This is the Chronicle. The Bulletin has an ex- 
 tra " 
 
 Dillingham waited to hear no more. He hung up 
 the receiver with a grin, and it was music in his ears 
 to hear those bells impatiently jangling for the next 
 ten minutes. It seemed to quicken his intelligence, for 
 presently he slapped his hand upon his leg and 
 jumped toward the group of employees in the corner. 
 
 "Say!" he demanded. "Who figured on this job 
 for the Middle West Company?" 
 
 "Dan Rubble, I suppose," answered a lanky drafts- 
 man, who, still wearing his apron, had slipped his 
 coat on over his oversleeves and retained his eye- 
 shade under his straw hat. "At least, he seemed to 
 know all about the plans. He's the boss contractor. 
 There he is now."
 
 372 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 Looking out of the window Dillingham saw a 
 brawny, red-haired giant running from the tool- 
 house, carrying a cylindrical tin case about five feet 
 long. He pulled off the cap of this as he came and 
 began to drag from the inside of the case a thick 
 roll of blue-prints. He was hurrying toward a big 
 asphalt caldron underneath which blazed a hot wood 
 fire. 
 
 "Come on, Biff," yelled Dillingham, and hurried 
 out of the door, closely followed by Bates. 
 
 They both ran with all their might toward the 
 caldron, but before they could reach the spot Rubble 
 had shoved the entire roll into the fire. Biff wasted 
 no precious moments, but, glaring Mr. Rubble in the 
 eye as he ran, doubled his fist with the evident inten- 
 tion of damaging that large gentleman's countenance 
 with it. He suddenly ducked his round head as he 
 approached, however, and plunged it into the middle 
 of Mr. Rubble's appetite; whereupon Mr. Rubble 
 grunted heavily, and sat down quite uncomfortably 
 near to the caldron. Biff, though it scorched his 
 hands, dragged the blazing roll of blue-prints from 
 the flames and, seizing a near-by pail of water, started 
 for the drawings, just as big Dan regained his feet 
 and made a rush for him. 
 
 Dillingham, slight and no fighter but full of sand, 
 jumped crosswise into that melee, and with a flying
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 373 
 
 leap literally hung himself about Rubble's neck. Big 
 Dan, roaring like a bull at this unexpected and most 
 unprofessional mode of warfare, placed his two hands 
 upon Dillingham's hips and tried to force him away ; 
 failing in this, he ran straight forward with all this 
 living clog hanging to him, and planted a terrific kick 
 upon Biff's ribs, just as Biff had dashed the pail of 
 water from end to end of the blazing roll of drawings. 
 He poised for another kick, but Biff had dropped the 
 pail by this time, and as the foot swung forward he 
 grabbed it. Rubble, losing his balance, pitched for- 
 ward, landing squarely upon the top of the unhappy 
 Dillingham, who signified his retirement from the 
 game with an astonishingly large "Woof!" to come 
 from so small a body ; moreover, he released his arms ; 
 but Rubble, freed from the weight on his chest, found 
 another one on his back. Biff felt quite competent 
 to manage him, but by this time half a dozen men 
 came running from different directions, and as there 
 were a hundred or more of them on the job, all be- 
 holden for their daily bread and butter to Mr. Rub- 
 ble, things looked bad for Biff and Dillingham. 
 
 "Back up there, you mutts, or I'll make peek-a- 
 boo patterns out of the lot of you!" howled a pene- 
 trating voice, and Mr. Feeney, heading the relief 
 party, which consisted only of Bobby and Mr. Ferris, 
 whipped from each hip pocket a huge blue-steel re-
 
 374 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 volver, at the same time brushing back his coat to 
 display his badge. 
 
 Those men might have fought Mr. Feeney's guns, 
 but they had no mind to fight that badge, and they 
 held back while Bobby and Mr. Ferris helped to calm 
 Mr. Rubble by the simple expedient of sitting on 
 him. 
 
 Three days later Bobby induced Messrs. Sharpe, 
 Trimmer and all of their associates, without any dif- 
 ficulty whatever, to meet with him in the office of the 
 mayor. 
 
 "Gentlemen of the Middle West Construction Com- 
 pany," said Bobby; "I am sorry to say that you are 
 not telling the truth when you claim that you figured 
 in good faith on this absurd and almost unknown 
 three-tenths-inch scale, when all the others figured 
 on the same drawings at one-fourth inch. The rescue 
 of these prints, covered with Rubble's marginal fig- 
 ures, does not leave you a leg to stand on," and Bobby 
 tapped his knuckles upon the charred-edged blue- 
 prints that lay unrolled on the desk before him. 
 Fortunately the three inside prints were left fairly 
 intact, and these were plainly marked one-fourth inch 
 to the foot. "Moreover, rolled up inside the blue- 
 prints was even better evidence," went on Bobby; 
 "evidence that Mr. Trimmer has perhaps forgotten. 
 Nothing has been said about it until now, and noth-
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 375 
 
 ing has been published since we saved them from the 
 fire." 
 
 From the drawer of his desk he drew several sheets 
 of white paper. They were letter-heads of Trimmer 
 and Company and were covered with Rubble's figures. 
 
 "Here's a note from Mr. Trimmer to Mr. Rubble, 
 requesting him to prepare a statement showing the 
 difference in cost 'between three-tenths and one- 
 fourth.' He does not say three-tenths or one-fourth 
 what, but that is quite enough, taken in conjunction 
 with these summaries on another sheet of paper. 
 They are set down in two columns, one headed three- 
 tenths and the other one-fourth. I have had Mr. 
 Platt go over these figures, and he finds that the first 
 number in one column exactly corresponds to the 
 number of yards of excavating in this job when 
 figured on the scale of three-tenths inch to the foot. 
 The first number in the next column exactly corre- 
 sponds to the excavating when figured at the one- 
 fourth-inch scale. Every item will compare in the 
 same manner: concrete, masonry, face-brick, and all. 
 Now, if you chaps want to take this clumsy and al- 
 most laughable attempt at a steal into the courts I'm 
 perfectly willing; but I should advise you not to do 
 so." 
 
 Mr. Sharpe cleared his throat. He, the first one 
 to declare that the Middle West would "go into court
 
 376 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 and stand upon its rights," was now the first one to 
 recant. 
 
 "I don't suppose it's worth while to contest the 
 matter," he admitted. "We have no show with your 
 administration, I see. We lose the contract and will 
 step down and out quite peaceably; although there 
 ought to be some arrangement by which we might 
 get credit for the amount of work already done." 
 
 "No," declared Chalmers, with quite a reproving 
 smile, "you may just keep on using the available 
 part of it; for the point is that you don't lose the 
 contract! You keep the contract, and you will build 
 the power-house upon the original scale of one-fourth 
 inch to the foot. Also you will carry out the rest of 
 the work on the same basis as figured by other con- 
 tractors. I want to remind you that you are well 
 bonded, well financed, and that the city holds a guar- 
 antee of twenty per cent, of the contract price as a 
 forfeit for the due and proper completion of this job." 
 
 "Why, it means bankruptcy!" shrieked Silas 
 Trimmer, the deeply-graven circle about his mouth 
 now being but the pallid and piteous caricature of 
 his old-time sinister smile. 
 
 "That is precisely what I intend," retorted Bobby 
 with a snap of his jaws. "I have long, long scores 
 to settle with both of you gentlemen." 
 
 "But you haven't against the other members of
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 377 
 
 this company," protested Sharpe. "Our other stock- 
 holders are entirely innocent parties." 
 
 "They have my sincere sympathy for being caught 
 in such dubious company," replied Bobby with a 
 contemptuous smile. "I happen to have a roster of 
 your stock-holders, and every man of them has been 
 mixed up in crooked deals in combination with Stone 
 or Stone enterprises ; so whatever they lose on this 
 contract will be merely by way of restitution to the 
 city." 
 
 "Look here, Mr. Burnit," said Sharpe, dropping 
 his tone of remonstrance for one intended to be 
 wheedling; "I know there are a number of financial 
 matters between us that might have a tendency to 
 make you vindictive. Now why can't we just get 
 together nicely on all of these things and compro- 
 mise?" 
 
 Chalmers rapped his knuckles sharply upon his 
 desk. 
 
 "Kindly remember where you are," he warned. 
 
 "When I get around to settling day there will be 
 no such thing as a compromise," declared Bobby 
 with repressed anger. "I'll settle all those other mat- 
 ters in my own way and at my own time." 
 
 "One thing more, gentlemen," said Chalmers, as 
 the chopfallen committee of the Middle West Con- 
 struction Company rose to depart; "I wish to re-
 
 378 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 mind you that there is a forfeit clause in your con- 
 tract for delay, so I should advise you to resume 
 operations at once. Mr. Platt succeeds the unfor- 
 tunate Mr. Scales as constructing engineer, and he 
 will see that the plans and specifications of the entire 
 contract are carried out to the letter." 
 
 Platt, who had said nothing, walked away with 
 Bobby. 
 
 "You were speaking about following the plans 
 exactly, Mr. Burnit," he said when they were alone 
 upon the street. "I find on an examination of the 
 subsoil that there will be a few minor changes re- 
 quired. The runway, for instance, which goes down 
 to the river northward from the power-house for the 
 purpose of unloading coal barges, would be much 
 better placed on the south side, away from the intake. 
 There is practically no difference in expense, except 
 that in running to the southward the riprap work 
 will need to be carried about three feet deeper and 
 with concreted walls, in place of being thrown loosely 
 in the trenches as originally planned." 
 
 "All those things are up to you, Jimmy," said 
 Bobby indifferently. "You must use your own judg- 
 ment. Any changes of the sort that you deem neces- 
 sary just bring before the city council, and I am 
 quite sure that you can secure permission to make 
 them."
 
 BOBBY INAUGURATES A TRAGEDY 879 
 
 "Very well," said Platt, and he left Bobby at the 
 corner with a curious smile. 
 
 He was a different looking Jimmy Platt from the 
 one Bobby had found in his office a week before. He 
 was clean-shaven now, and his clothing was quite 
 prosperous looking. Bobby, surmising the condi- 
 tion of affairs, had delicately insisted on making Platt 
 a loan, to be repaid from his salary at a conveniently 
 distant period, and the world looked very bright in- 
 deed to him. 
 
 The next day work on the new waterworks was 
 resumed. In bitter consultation the Middle West 
 Construction Company had discovered that they 
 would lose less by fulfilling their contract than by 
 forfeiting their twenty per cent., and they dispiritedly 
 turned in again, kept constantly whipped up to the 
 mark by Platt and by the knowledge that every day's 
 non-completion of the work meant a heavy additional 
 forfeit, which they had counted on being able to 
 evade so long as the complaisant Mr. Scales was in 
 charge.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 'JIMMY PLATT ENJOYS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF HIS 
 LIFE 
 
 THE straightening out of the waterworks 
 matter left Bobby free to turn his attention 
 to the local gas and electric situation. The 
 'Bulletin, since Bobby had defeated his political ene- 
 mies, had been put upon a paying basis and was 
 rapidly earning its way out of the debt that he had 
 been compelled to incur for it; but the Brightlight 
 Electric Company was a thorn in his side. Its only 
 business now was the street illumination of twelve 
 blocks, under a municipal contract which lost him 
 money every month, and it had been a terrific task to 
 keep it going. 
 
 The Consolidated Illuminating and Power Com- 
 pany, however, Bobby discovered by careful inquiry, 
 was in even worse financial straits than the Bright- 
 light. To its thirty millions of stock, mostly water, 
 twenty more millions of water had been added, mak- 
 ing a total organization of fifty million dollars ; and 
 the twenty million dollars' stock had been sold to the 
 380
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 381 
 
 public for ten million dollars, each purchaser of one 
 share of preferred being given one share of common. 
 As the preferred was to draw five per cent., this meant 
 that two and one-half million dollars a year must be 
 paid out in dividends. The salary roll of the com- 
 pany was enormous, and the number of non-working 
 officers who drew extravagant stipends would have 
 swamped any company. Comparing the two con- 
 cerns, Bobby felt that in the Brightlight he had 
 vastly the better property of the two, in that there 
 was no water in it at its present half -million-dollar 
 capitalization. 
 
 It was while pondering these matters that Bobby, 
 dropping in at the Idlers' Club one dull night, found 
 no one there but Silas Trimmer's son-in-law, the 
 vapid and dissolute Clarence Smythe, which was a 
 trifle worse than finding the place entirely deserted. 
 To-night Clarence was in possession of what was 
 known at the Idlers' as "one of Smythe's soggy buns," 
 and despite countless snubs in the past he seized upon 
 Bobby as a receptacle for his woes. 
 I "I'm going to leave this town for good, Burnit !" 
 Ee declared without any preliminaries, having waited 
 so long to convey this startling and important in- 
 formation that salutations were entirely forgotten. 
 
 ''For good! For whose good?" inquired Bobby. 
 
 "Mine," responded Clarence. "This town's gone
 
 382 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 to the bow-wows. It's in the hands of a lot of pikers. 
 There's no chance to make big money any more." 
 
 "Yes, I know," said Bobby dryly; "I had some- 
 thing to do with that, myself." 
 
 "It was a fine lot of muck-raking you did," charged 
 Clarence. "Well, I'll give you another item for your 
 paper. I have resigned from the Consolidated." 
 
 "It was cruel of you." 
 
 "It was time," said Clarence, ignoring the flip- 
 pancy. "Something's going to drop over there." 
 
 Bobby smiled. 
 
 "It's always dropping," he agreed. 
 
 "This is the big drop," the other went on, with a 
 wine-laden man's pride in the fact of possessing val- 
 uable secrets. "They're going to make a million-dol- 
 lar bond issue." 
 
 "What for?" inquired Bobby. 
 
 '"They need the money," chuckled Mr. Smythe. 
 "Those city bonds, you know." 
 
 "What bonds?" demanded Bobby eagerly, but try- 
 ing to speak nonchalantly. 
 
 Mr. Smythe suddenly realized the solemn gravity 
 of his folly. Once more he was talking too much. 
 Once more! It was a thing to weep over. "I'm a 
 fool," he confessed in awe-stricken tones ; "a rotten 
 fool, Burnit. I'm ashamed to look anybody in the 
 face. I'm ashamed "
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 383 
 
 "It's highly commendable of you, I'm sure," 
 Bobby agreed, and took his hasty leave before Clar- 
 ence should begin to sob. 
 
 Immediately he called up Chalmers at his home. 
 
 "Chalmers," he demanded, "why must the Consoli- 
 dated Illuminating and Power Company purchase 
 city bonds?" 
 
 Chalmers laughed. 
 
 "Originally so Sam Stone could lend money to 
 the Consumers' Electric. It is a part of their fran- 
 chise, which is renewable at their option in ten-year 
 periods, and which became a part of the Consoli- 
 dated's property when the combine was effected. To 
 insure 'faithful performance of contract,' for which 
 clause every crooked municipality has a particular 
 affection, they were to purchase a million dollars' 
 worth of city bonds. Each year one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars' worth were retired. In the tenth year, 
 in renewing their franchise for the next ten years, 
 they were compelled to renew also their million dollars 
 of city bonds. These bonds they then used as collat- 
 eral. Stone carried all that he could, at enormous 
 usury, I understand, and let some of his banker 
 friends in on the rest; and I suppose the banks paid 
 him a rake-off. The ten-year period is up this fall, 
 and their bonds are naturally retired ; but, of course, 
 they will renew."
 
 384 THE MAKING OF. BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "I'm not so sure about that," said Bobby. "Look 
 up everything connected with it in the morning, and 
 I'll see you at noon." 
 
 When they met the next day at noon, however, be- 
 fore Bobby could talk about the business in hand, 
 Chalmers, with a suppressed smile, handed him a 
 folded slip of paper. 
 
 Bobby examined that legal document a dissolu- 
 tion of the injunction which had tied up a hundred 
 and fifty thousand dollars in his bank for more than 
 two years with a sigh of relief. 
 
 "It seems," said Chalmers dryly, "that at the time 
 you laid yourself liable to Madam Villenauve's 
 breach-of-promise suit she had an undivorced hus- 
 band living, Monsieur Villenauve complacently hiding 
 himself in France and waiting for his share of the 
 money. Let this be a lesson to you, young man." 
 
 Bobby hotly resented that grin. 
 
 "I'll swear to you, Chalmers," he asserted, "I never 
 so much as thought of the woman except as a nui- 
 sance." 
 
 "I apologize, old man," said Chalmers. "But at 
 least this will teach you not to back any more grand 
 opera companies." 
 
 "I prefer to talk about the electric situation," said 
 Bobby severely. "What have you found out about 
 it?"
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 385 
 
 "That the Ebony Jewel Coal Company, a former 
 Stone enterprise, has threatened suit against the Con- 
 solidated for their bill. The Consolidated is in a 
 pinch and must raise money, not only to buy that 
 allotment of the new waterworks bonds, but to meet 
 the Ebony's and other pressing accounts. It must 
 also float this bond issue, for it is likely to fall behind 
 even on its salary list." 
 
 "Fine!" said Bobby. "I can see a lot of good 
 citizens in this town holding stock in a bankrupt 
 illuminating concern. Just watch this thing, will 
 you, Chalmers? About this nice, lucky hundred and 
 fifty thousand, we may count it as spent." 
 
 "What in?" asked Chalmers, smiling. "Do you 
 think you can trust yourself with all that money?" 
 
 "Hush," said Bobby. "Don't breathe it aloud. 
 I'm going to buy up all the Brightlight Electric 
 stock I can find. It's too bad, Chalmers," he added 
 with a grin, "that as mayor of the city you could not, 
 with propriety, hold stock in this company," and al- 
 though Chalmers tried to call him back Bobby did 
 not wait. He was too busy, he said. 
 
 His business was to meet Agnes and Mrs. Elliston 
 for luncheon down-town, and during the meal he hap- 
 pened to remark that Clarence Smythe had deter- 
 mined to shake the dust of the city from his feet. 
 
 "I thought so," declared Agnes. "Aunt Con-
 
 386 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 stance, I'm afraid you'll have to finish your shopping 
 without me. I must call upon Mrs. Smythe." 
 
 Mrs. Elliston frowned her disapproval, but she 
 knew better than to protest. Before Agnes called 
 upon Mrs. Smythe, however, she dropped in at the 
 manufacturing concern of D. A. Elliston and Com- 
 pany. 
 
 "Uncle Dan, how much money of mine have you 
 in charge just now?" she demanded to know. 
 
 "Cash? About five or six thousand." 
 
 "And how much more could you raise on my prop- 
 erty?" 
 
 "Right away? About fifteen, on bonds and such 
 securities. This is no time to sacrifice real estate." 
 
 "It isn't enough," said Agnes, frowning, and was 
 silent for a time. "You'll just have to loan me about 
 ten thousand more." 
 
 "Oh, will I?" he retorted. "What for?" 
 
 "I want to make an investment." 
 
 "So I judged," he dryly responded. "Well, 
 young lady, as your steward I reckon I'll have to 
 know something more about this investment before 
 I turn over any money." 
 
 With sparkling eyes and blushes that would come 
 in spite of her, she told him what she intended to 
 do. When she had concluded, Dan Elliston slapped 
 his knees in huge joy.
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 387 
 
 "You shall have all the money you want," he de- 
 clared. 
 
 Upon that same afternoon Bobby started to buy up, 
 here and there, nearly the entire stock of the Bright- 
 light, purchasing it at an absurdly low price. Then 
 he went to De Graff, to Dan Elliston, and to others 
 to whose discretion he could trust. His own plans 
 were well under way when the Consolidated Illuminat- 
 ing and Power Company announced, with a great 
 flourish of trumpets, its new bond issue. The Bulletin 
 made no comment upon this. It merely published the 
 news fact briefly and concisely an unexpected atti- 
 tude, which brought surprise, then wonder, then sus- 
 picion to the office of the Chronicle. The Chronicle 
 had been a Stone organ during the heydey of Stone's 
 prosperity ; the Bulletin had fought the Consolidated 
 tooth and toe-nail ; the already criminally overcapital- 
 ized Consolidated was about to float a new bond issue ; 
 the Bulletin did not fight this issue ; ergo, the Bulletin 
 must have something to gain by the issue. 
 
 The Chronicle waited three days, then began to 
 fight the bond issue itself, which was precisely the ef- 
 fect for which Bobby had planned. Grown astute, 
 Bobby realized that if the bond issue failed the Con- 
 solidated would go bankrupt at once instead of a year 
 or so later. The newspaper, however, which would 
 force that bankruptcy would, by that act, be the ap-
 
 388 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT, 
 
 parent means of losing a vast amount of money to 
 the poor investors of the town, and Bobby left that 
 ungrateful task to the Chronicle. He even went so far 
 as to defend the Consolidated in a mild sort of manner, 
 a proceeding which fanned the Chronicle into fresh 
 fury. 
 
 For three months desperate attempts were made by 
 the Consolidated to make the new bonds attractive to 
 the public, but less than one hundred thousand dollars 
 was subscribed. Bobby was tabulating the known re- 
 sults of this subscription with much satisfaction one 
 morning when Ferris walked into his office. 
 
 "I hope you didn't come into town to dig up an- 
 other scandal, old man," said Bobby, greeting his 
 contractor-friend with keen pleasure. 
 
 "No," said Ferris ; "came in to give you a bit of 
 news. The Great Eastern and Western Railroad 
 wants to locate its shop here, and is building by pri- 
 vate bid. I have secured the contract, subject to cer- 
 tain alterations of price for distance of hauling and 
 difficulty of excavation ; but the thing is liable to fall 
 through for lack of a location. They can't get the 
 piece of property they are after, and there is only 
 one other one large enough and near enough to the 
 city. The chief engineer and I are going out to look 
 at it again to-day. Come with us. If we decide that 
 the property will do, and if we can secure it, you may
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 389 
 
 have an exclusive news-item that would be very pretty, 
 I should judge." And Ferris smiled at some secret 
 joke. 
 
 "I'll go with pleasure," said Bobby, "and not by 
 any means just for the news. When do you want to 
 go?" 
 
 "Oh, right away, I guess. I'll telephone to Shep- 
 herd and have him order a rig." 
 
 "What's the use?" demanded Bobby, much inter- 
 ested. "My car's right within call. I'll have it brought 
 up." 
 
 Shepherd, the chief engineer of the G. E. and W., 
 when they picked him up at the hotel, proved to be 
 an entire human being with red whiskers and not a 
 care in the world. Bobby was enjoying a lot of pre- 
 liminary persiflage when Shepherd incidentally men- 
 tioned their destination. 
 
 "It is known as Westmarsh," he observed. "I sup- 
 pose you know where it is." 
 
 Bobby, who had already started the machine and 
 had placed his hand on the steering wheel, gave a jerk 
 so violent that he almost sent the machine diagonally 
 across the street, and Ferris laughed aloud. His little 
 joke was no longer a secret. 
 
 "Westmarsh !" Bobby repeated. "Why, I own that 
 undrainable swamp." 
 
 "Swamp?" exclaimed Shepherd. "It's as dry as a
 
 390 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 bone. I looked it over last night and am going out 
 to-day to study the possible approaches to it." 
 
 "But you say it is dry!" protested Bobby, unable 
 to believe it. 
 
 "Dry as powder," asserted Shepherd. "There has 
 been an immense amount of water out there, but it 
 has been well taken care of by the splendid drainage 
 system that has been put in." 
 
 "It cost a lot of money to put in that drainage sys- 
 tem," commented Bobby; "but we found it impracti- 
 cable to drain an entire river." 
 
 It was Shepherd's turn to be puzzled, a process in 
 which he stopped to laugh. 
 
 "This is the first time I ever heard an owner belit- 
 tle his own property," he declared. "I suppose that 
 next you'll only accept half the price we offer." 
 
 Bobby kept up his part of the conversation but 
 feebly as they whirled out to the site of the old Apple- 
 rod Addition. He was lost in speculation upon what 
 could possibly have happened to that unfortunate 
 swamp area. When they arrived, however, he was sur- 
 prised to find that Shepherd had been correct. The 
 ground, though sunken in places and black with the 
 residue of one-time stagnant water, was firm enough 
 to walk upon, and after many tests he even ran the 
 machine across and across it. Moreover, grass and 
 weeds, forcing their way here and there, were already
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 391 
 
 beginning to hide and redeem the ugly earthen sur- 
 face. 
 
 Bobby surveyed the miracle in amazement. It was 
 the first time he had seen the place in a year. Even in 
 his trips to the waterworks site, which was just north, 
 beyond the hill, he had chosen the longer and less solid 
 river road rather than to come past this spot of 
 humiliating memories. 
 
 "I can't understand it," he said again and again to 
 the two men. "Why, Mr. Shepherd, I spent thousands 
 of dollars in filling this swamp and draining it, with 
 the idea of making a city subdivision here. Silas 
 Trimmer, the man from whom I bought the place, 
 imagined it to be fed by underground springs, but he 
 let me spend a fortune to attract people out to see my 
 new building lots so that he could, without cost, sell 
 his own. That is his addition up there on the hills, 
 and I'm glad to say he has recently mortgaged it for 
 all that it will carry." 
 
 "How about the springs?" asked Shepherd with a 
 frown. "Did you find them ? You must have stopped 
 them. Are they liable to break out again?" 
 
 "That's the worst of it," replied Bobby, still grop- 
 ing. "It wasn't springs at all. It was a peculiar geo- 
 logical formation, some disarranged strata leading 
 beneath the hill from the river and emptying into the 
 bottom of this pond. All through the year it seeped
 
 392 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 in faster than our extensive drainings could carry it 
 away, and in the spring and fall, when the river was 
 high, it poured in. I don't see what could have hap- 
 pened. Suppose we run over and see the engineer who 
 worked on this with me. He is now in charge of the 
 new waterworks." 
 
 In five minutes they were over there. Jimmy Platt, 
 out in his shirt-sleeves under a broad-brimmed straw 
 hat, greeted them most cordially, but when Bobby 
 explained to him the miracle that had happened to the 
 old Applerod Addition, Platt laughed until the tears 
 came into his eyes ; and even after he stopped laugh- 
 ing there were traces of them there. 
 
 "Come down here and I'll show you," said he. 
 
 Leading south from the pumping station, diag- 
 onally down the steep bank to the river, had been built 
 a splendid road, flanked on both sides by very solid, 
 substantial-looking retaining walls. 
 
 "You see this wall?" asked Jimmy, pointing to the 
 inside one. "It runs twenty feet below low-water level, 
 and is solidly cemented. You remember when I got 
 permission to move this road from the north side to 
 the south side of the pumping station? I did that 
 after an examination of the subsoil. This wall cuts 
 off the natural siphon that fed the water to your Ap- 
 plerod Addition. I have been going past there in huge 
 joy twice a day, watching that swamp dry up."
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 393 
 
 "In other words," said Bobby, "you have been do- 
 ing a little private grafting on ray account. How 
 many additional dollars did that extra-deep wall 
 cost?" 
 
 "I'm not going to tell you," asserted Jimmy 
 stoutly. "It isn't very much, but whatever it is the 
 city good and plenty owes you for saving it over a 
 million on this job. But if I'd had to pay for it my- 
 self I would have done it to correct the mistake I 
 made when I started to drain that swamp for you. I 
 guess this is about the most satisfactory minute of 
 my life," and he looked it. 
 
 "A fine piece of work," agreed Shepherd, casting 
 a swift eye over the immense and busy waterworks site, 
 and then glancing at the hill across which lay Bobby's 
 property. "You're lucky to have had this chance, 
 Mr. Platt," and he shook hands cordially with Jimmy. 
 "I'm perfectly satisfied, Mr. Burnit. Do you want to 
 sell that property?" 
 
 "If I can get out at a profit," replied Bobby. 
 "Otherwise I'll regrade the thing and split it up into 
 building lots as I originally intended." 
 
 "Let's go back down to the hotel and talk 'turkey,' " 
 offered Shepherd briskly. "What do you think of the 
 place, Ferris? WiU it do?" 
 
 "Fine!" said Ferris. "The property lies so low 
 that we won't have to cart away a single load of our
 
 394 THE MAKING DE BOBBY BURNIT. 
 
 excavation. If we can only get a right-of-way through 
 that natural approach to the northeast " 
 
 "I think I can guarantee a right-of-way," inter- 
 rupted Bobby, smiling, with his mind upon the city 
 council which had been created by his own efforts. 
 
 "All right," said Shepherd. "We'll talk price until 
 I have browbeaten you as low as you will go. Then I'll 
 prepare a plat of the place and send it on to head- 
 quarters. You'll have an answer from them in three 
 days." 
 
 As they whirred away Bobby's eyes happened to 
 rest upon a young man and a young woman rowing 
 idly down-stream in a skiff, and he smiled as he recog- 
 nized Biff Bates and Nellie Platt. 
 
 On the day Bobby got the money for his West- 
 marsh property old Applerod came up from the office 
 of the Brightlight Electric Company, where he held 
 a lazy, sleepy afternoon job as "manager," and with 
 an ingratiating smile handed Bobby a check for five 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 "What's this for?" asked Bobby, puzzled. 
 
 "I have decided to give you back the money and 
 take up again my approximate one-fifth share in the 
 Applerod Addition," announced that gentleman com- 
 placently. 
 
 Bobby was entirely too much surprised at this to be 
 amused.
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 395 
 
 "You're just a trifle too late, Mr. Applerod," said 
 he. "Had you come to me two weeks ago, when I 
 thought the land was worthless, out of common de- 
 cency I would not have let you buy in again. Since 
 then, however, I have sold the tract at a profit of forty 
 thousand dollars." 
 
 "You have?" exclaimed Applerod. "I heard you 
 were going to do something of the kind. I'm entitled 
 to one-fifth of that profit, Mr. Burnit eight thou- 
 sand dollars." 
 
 "You're entitled to a good, swift poke in the neck !" 
 exclaimed the voice of wizened old Johnson, who stood 
 in the doorway, and who, since his friendship with Biff 
 Bates, had absorbed some of that gentleman's vigorous 
 vernacular. " Applerod, I'll give you just one minute 
 to get out of this office. If you don't I'll throw you 
 downstairs !" 
 
 "Mr. Johnson," said Applerod with great dignity, 
 "this office does not belong to you. I have as much 
 right here " 
 
 Mr. Johnson, taking a trot around Bobby's desk so 
 as to get Mr. Applerod between him and the door, 
 made a threatening demonstration toward the rear, 
 and Applerod, suddenly deserting his dignity, rushed 
 out. Bobby straightened his face as Johnson, still 
 blazing, came in from watching Applerod's ignomini- 
 ous retreat.
 
 396 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Well, Johnson," said he, ignoring the incident as 
 closed, "what can I do for you to-day?" 
 
 "Nothing!" snapped Johnson. "I have forgotten 
 what I came for !" and going out he slammed the door 
 behind him. 
 
 In the course of an hour Bobby was through with 
 his morning allotment of mail and his daily consulta- 
 tion with Jolter, and then he called Johnson to his 
 office. 
 
 "Johnson," said he, "I want you to do me a favor. 
 There is one block of Brightlight stock that I have 
 not yet bought up. It is in the hands of J. W. Wil- 
 liams, one of the old Stone crowd, who ought to be 
 wanting money by this time. He holds one hundred 
 shares, which you should be able to buy by now at 
 fifty dollars a share. I want you to buy this stock in 
 your own name, and I want to loan you five thousand 
 dollars to do it with. I merely want voting power ; so 
 after you get it you may hold it if you like and still 
 owe me the five thousand dollars, or I'll take it off 
 your hands at any time you are tired of the obligation. 
 You'd better go to Barrister and have him buy the 
 stock for you." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Johnson. 
 
 Bobby immediately went to De Graff. 
 
 "I came to subscribe for two hundred and fifty 
 thousand dollars' worth of additional stock in the
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY 397 
 
 New Brightlight. I have just deposited two hundred 
 and eighty-five thousand dollars in your bank." 
 
 "You're becoming an expert," said De Graff with 
 a quizzical smile. "With the million dollars' valua- 
 tion at which we are to buy in the present Brightlight, 
 the two hundred and fifty thousand subscribed for 
 by Dan Elliston, and the ten thousand held by Miss 
 Elliston, this new subscription about gives you con- 
 trol of the New Brightlight, don't it?" 
 
 "That's what I want," Bobby exulted "You don't 
 object, do you?" 
 
 "Not on my own account," De Graff assured him; 
 "but you'd better have Barrister buy this in for you 
 until we are organized. Then you can take it over." 
 
 "I guess you're right," agreed Bobby. "I'll send 
 Barrister right over, and I think I shall make him 
 take up the remaining ten thousand on his own ac- 
 count. A week from to-night is the council meeting at 
 which the Consolidated must make good to renew their 
 franchise, and we don't want any hitch in getting our 
 final incorporation papers by that time. The members 
 of the Consolidated are singing swan songs in seven 
 simultaneous keys at this very moment." 
 
 Bobby's description of the condition of the Con- 
 solidated was scarcely exaggerated. It was a trying 
 and a hopeless period for them. The bond issue had 
 failed miserably. It had not needed the Chronicle to
 
 398 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 remind the public of what a shaky proposition the 
 Consolidated was, for Bobby had thoroughly exposed 
 the corporation during the Bulletin's campaign 
 against Sam Stone. Bond-floating companies from 
 other cities were brought in, and after an examina- 
 tion of the books threw up their hands in horror at 
 the crudest muddle they had ever found in any in- 
 vestigation of municipal affairs. 
 
 On the night of the council meeting, Sharpe and 
 Trimmer and Williams, representing the Consoli- 
 dated, were compelled to come before the council and 
 confess their inability to take up the bonds required 
 to renew their franchise; but they begged that this 
 clause, since it was an entirely unnecessary one and 
 was not enjoined upon gas or electric companies in 
 other cities, be not enforced. Council, however, was 
 obdurate, and the committee thereupon begged for a 
 further extension of time in which to raise the neces- 
 sary amount of money. Council still was obdurate, 
 and by that obduracy the franchise of the Consumers' 
 Electric Company, said franchise being controlled by 
 the Consolidated Illuminating and Power Company, 
 became null and void. 
 
 Thereupon Bobby Burnit, President De Graff and 
 Dan Elliston, representing the New Brightlight Elec- 
 tric Company, recently organized for three million 
 dollars, came forward and prayed for a franchise for
 
 JIMMY PLATT'S HAPPY DAY, 399 
 
 the electric lighting of the entire city, agreeing to 
 take over the poles and wiring of the Consolidated at 
 a fair valuation ; and council was not at all obdurate, 
 which was scarcely strange when one reflected that 
 every member of that municipal body had been se- 
 lected and put in place through the direct instrumen- 
 tality of Bobby Burnit. It was practical politics, true 
 enough, but Bobby had no qualms whatever about it. 
 
 "It may be quite true that I have not been actuated 
 by any highly noble motives in this," he confessed to 
 a hot charge by Williams, "but so long as in municipal 
 affairs I am not actuated by any ignoble motives I am 
 doing pretty fairly in this town." 
 
 There was just the bare trace of brutality in Bobby 
 as he said this, and he suddenly recognized it in him- 
 self with dismay. What pity Bobby might have felt 
 for these bankrupt men, however, was swept away in 
 a gust of renewed aggressiveness when Trimmer, 
 arousing himself from the ashen age which seemed all 
 at once to be creeping over him, said, with a return 
 of that old circular smile which had so often before 
 aggravated Bobby: 
 
 "I am afraid I'll have to draw out of my other ven- 
 tures and retire on my salary as president and man- 
 ager of Trimmer and Company." 
 
 Vengefulness was in Bobby's eyes as he followed 
 Trimmer's sprawling figure, so much like a bloated
 
 400 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 spider's in its bigness of circumference and its at- 
 tenuation of limbs, that suddenly he shuddered and 
 turned away as when one finds oneself about to step 
 upon a toad.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 IN WHICH, BEING THE LAST CHAPTER, EVERYTHING 
 
 TURNS OUT RIGHT, AND EVERYBODY GETS 
 
 MARRIED 
 
 A~ the offices of the New Brightlight Elec- 
 tric Company there was universal rejoicing. 
 Johnson was removed from the Bulletin to 
 take charge of the new organization until it should be 
 completed, and Bobby himself, for a few days, was 
 compelled to spend most of his time there. During the 
 first week after the granting of the franchise Bobby 
 called Johnson to him. 
 
 '"Mr. Johnson," said he quite severely, "you have 
 Been so careful and so faithful in all other things that 
 I dislike to remind you of an overlooked duty." 
 
 "I am sorry, sir," said Johnson. "What is it?" 
 
 "You have neglected to make out a note for that 
 five-thousand-dollar loan. Kindly draw it up now, 
 payable in ten years, with interest at four per cent. 
 after the date of maturity." 
 
 "But, sir," stammered Johnson, "the stock is worth 
 
 401
 
 402 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Would you like to keep it?" 
 
 "I'd be a fool to say I wouldn't, sir. But the stock 
 is not only worth par, it was worth that in the old 
 Brightlight; and I received an exchange of two for 
 one in the New Brightlight, which is also worth par 
 this morning; so I hold twenty thousand dollars' 
 worth of stock." 
 
 "It cost me five thousand," insisted Bobby, "and 
 we'll settle at that figure." 
 
 "I don't know how to thank you, sir," trembled 
 Johnson, but he stiffened immediately as Applerod in- 
 truded himself into the room with a bundle of papers 
 which he laid upon the desk. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Mr. Burnit," began Applerod, 
 "but I have five thousand dollars I'd like to invest in 
 the New Brightlight Company if you could manage 
 it for me." 
 
 "I'm sorry, Applerod," said Bobby, "but there isn't 
 a share for sale. It was subscribed to the full capital- 
 ization before the incorporation papers were issued." 
 
 Applerod was about to leave the room in deep de- 
 jection when Johnson, with a sudden happy inspira- 
 tion, called him back. 
 
 "I think I know where you can buy five thousand," 
 said Johnson ; "but you will have to hurry to get it." 
 
 "Where?" asked Applerod eagerly, while Bobby 
 went to the window to conceal his broad smiles.
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIED 403 
 
 "Just put on your hat and go right over to Bar- 
 rister," directed Johnson; "and take a blank check 
 with you. I'll telephone him, to save time for you. 
 The stock is worth par, and that lonesome fifty shares 
 will be snapped up before you know it." 
 
 "You will excuse me till I go up-town, Mr. Burnit?" 
 inquired Applerod, and bustled out eagerly. 
 
 He had no sooner left the building than Johnson 
 grabbed Bobby's telephone and called up Barrister. 
 
 "This is Johnson," he said to the old attorney. "I 
 have just sent Applerod over to you to buy fifty shares 
 of New Brightlight at par. Take his check and hold it 
 for delivery of the stock. I'll have it over to you 
 within an hour, or as soon as I can have the transfer 
 made. It is my stock, but I don't want him to know 
 it." 
 
 Hanging up the receiver old Johnson sat in the 
 chair by Bobby's desk and his thin shoulders heaved 
 with laughter. 
 
 "Applerod will be plumb crazy when he finds that 
 out," he said. "To think that I have fifteen thousand 
 dollars' worth of this good stock that didn't cost me 
 a cent, all paid for with Applerod's own five thousand 
 dollars!" 
 
 Johnson laughed so hard that finally he was com- 
 pelled to lay his head on the desk in front of him, 
 with his lean old fingers over his eyes.
 
 404 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Thanks to yon, Robert; thanks to you," he added 
 after a little silence. 
 
 Bobby, turning from the window, saw the thin 
 shoulders still heaving. There was a glint of moisture 
 on the lean hands that had toiled for so many years in 
 the Burnit service, and as Bobby passed he placed his 
 hand on old Johnson's bowed head for just an instant, 
 then went out, leaving Johnson alone. 
 
 It was Applerod who, returning triumphantly with 
 Barrister's promise of the precious block of New 
 Brightlight for delivery in the afternoon, brought 
 Bobby a copy of his own paper containing so much 
 startling news that the front page consisted only of a 
 hysteria of head-lines. Sudden proceedings in bank- 
 ruptcy had been filed against the Consolidated Illumi- 
 nating and Power Company. These proceedings had 
 revealed the fact that Frank L. Sharpe, supposed to 
 have left the city on business for the company, had in 
 reality disappeared with the entire cash balance of the 
 Consolidated. This disappearance had immediately 
 thrust the Middle West Construction Company into 
 bankruptcy. By Stone's own acts the Stone enter- 
 prises had crumpled and fallen, and all his adherents 
 were ruined. 
 
 Out of the chaos that the startling facts he was 
 able to glean created in Bobby's mind there came a 
 thought of Ferris, and he immediately telephoned him,
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIED! '405 
 
 out at the site of the new G. E. and W. shops, where 
 ground was already being broken, that he would be 
 out that way. 
 
 Half an hour later he took Ferris into his machine 
 and they whirled over to the waterworks site, where 
 the work had stopped as abruptly as if that scene of 
 animation had suddenly been stricken of a plague and 
 died. On the way Bobby explained to Ferris what had 
 happened. 
 
 "You were the lowest legitimate bidder on the job, 
 I believe," he concluded. 
 
 "Yes, outside of the local company." 
 
 "If I were you I'd get busy with Jimmy Platt on 
 an estimate of the work already done," suggested 
 Bobby. "I think it very likely that the city council 
 will offer the Keystone Construction Company the con- 
 tract at its former figure, with the proper deductions 
 for present progress. We will make up the difference 
 between their bid and yours, and whatever loss there 
 is in taking up the work will come out of the forfeit 
 put up by the Middle West Company." 
 
 Jimmy Platt ran out to meet them like a lost soul. 
 The waterworks project had become his pet. He lived 
 with it and dreamed of it, and that there was a pros- 
 pect of resuming work, and under such skilful super- 
 vision as that of Ferris, delighted him. While Jimmy 
 and Mr. Ferris went into the office to prepare a basis
 
 406 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 of estimating, Bobby stayed behind to examine the 
 carbureter of his machine, which had been acting sus- 
 piciously on the way out, and while he was engaged 
 in this task a voice that he knew quite well saluted 
 him with : 
 
 "Fine work, old pal! I guess you put all your 
 lemons into the squeezer and got the juice, eh?" 
 
 Biff had a copy of the Bulletin in his hand, which 
 was sufficient explanation of his congratulations. 
 
 "Things do seem to be turning out pretty lucky 
 for me, Biff," Bobby confessed, and then, looking at 
 Mr. Bates, he immediately apologized. "I beg par- 
 don for calling you Biff," said he. "I should have said 
 Mr. Bates." 
 
 "Cut it!" growled Biff, looking himself over with 
 some complacency nevertheless. 
 
 From his nice new derby, which replaced the slouch 
 cap he had always preferred, to his neat and uncom- 
 fortably-pointed gun-metal leathers which had sup- 
 planted the broad-toed tans, Mr. Bates was an epit- 
 ome of neatly-pressed grooming. White cuffs edged 
 the sleeves of his gray business suit, and wonder of 
 wonders ! he wore a white shirt with a white collar, 
 in which there was tied a neat bow of last wonder 
 of all modest gray ! 
 
 "I suppose that costume is due to distinctly fem- 
 inine influence, eh, Biff?"
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIES 407 
 
 "Guilty as Cassie Chadwick!" replied Biff witK a 
 sheepish grin. "She's try in' to civilize me." 
 
 "Who is?" demanded Bobby. 
 
 "Oh, she is. You know who I mean. Why, she's 
 even taught me to cut out slang. Say, Bobby, I didn't 
 know how much like a rough-neck I used to talk. I 
 never opened my yawp but what I spilled a line of 
 fricasseed gab so twisted and frazzled and shredded 
 you could use it to stuff sofa-cushions ; but now I've 
 handed that string of talk the screw number. No more 
 slang for your Uncle Biff." 
 
 "I'm glad you have quit it," approved Bobby so- 
 berly. "I suppose the next thing I'll hear will be the 
 wedding bells." 
 
 "No !" Biff denied in a tone so pained and shocked 
 that Bobby looked up in surprise to see his face gone 
 pale. "Don't talk about that, Bobby. Why, I wouldn't 
 dare even think of it myself. I I never think about 
 it. Me? with a mitt like a picnic ham? Did you ever 
 see her hand, Bobby ? And her eyes and her hair and 
 all? Why, Bobby, if I'd ever catch myself daring to 
 think about marrying that girl I'd take myself by 
 the Adam's apple and give myself the damnedest 
 choking that ever turned a mutt's map purple." 
 
 "I'm sorry, after all, that you are through with 
 slang, Biff," said Bobby, "because if you were still 
 using it you might have expressed that idea so much
 
 408 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 more picturesquely;" but Biff did not hear him, for 
 from the office came Nellie Platt with a sun-hat in her 
 hand. 
 
 "Right on time," she said gaily to Biff, and, with 
 a pleasant word for Bobby, went down with Mr. Bates 
 to the river bank, where lay the neat little skiff that 
 Jimmy had bought for her. 
 
 Bobby and Ferris and Platt, standing up near the 
 filters, later on, were startled by a scream from the 
 river, and, turning, they saw the skiff, in mid-stream, 
 struck by a passing steamer and splintered as if it 
 were made of pasteboard. Nellie had been rowing. 
 Biff had called her attention to the approaching 
 steamer, across the path of which they were passing. 
 There had been plenty of time to row out of the way of 
 it, but Nellie in grasping her oar for a quick turn had 
 lost it. Fortunately the engines had been stopped im- 
 mediately when the pilot had seen that they must 
 strike, so that there was no appreciable underdrag. 
 Biff's head had been grazed slightly, enough to daze 
 him for an instant, but he held himself up mechani- 
 cally. Nellie, clogged by her skirts, could not swim, 
 and as Biff got his bearings he saw her close by him 
 going down for the second time. Two men sprang 
 from the lower deck of the steamer, but Biff reached 
 her first, and, his senses instantly clearing as he 
 caught her, he struck out for the shore.
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIED 409 
 
 The three men on shore immediately ran down the 
 bank, and sprang into the water to help Biff out with 
 his burden. He was pale, but strangely cool and col- 
 lected. 
 
 "Don't go at it that way !" he called to them sav- 
 agely, knowing neither friend nor foe in this emer- 
 gency. "Get her loosened up someway, can't you?" 
 
 Without waiting on them, Biff ripped a knife from 
 his pocket, opened it and slit through waist and skirt- 
 band and whatever else intervened, to her corset, which 
 he opened with big fingers, the sudden deftness of 
 which was marvelous. Directing them with crisp, 
 sharp commands, he guided them through the first 
 steps toward resuscitation, and then began the slow, 
 careful pumping of the arms that should force breath 
 back into the closed lungs. 
 
 For twenty minutes, each of which seemed inter- 
 minable, Jimmy and Biff worked, one on either side 
 of her, Biff's face set, cold, expressionless, until at last 
 there was a flutter of the eyelids, a cry of distress as 
 the lungs took up their interrupted function, then the 
 sharp, hissing sound of the intake and outgo of nat- 
 ural, though labored, breath ; then Nellie Platt opened 
 her big, brown eyes and gazed up into the gray ones 
 of Biff Bates. She faintly smiled; then Biff did a 
 thing that he had never done before in his mature life. 
 He suddenly broke down and cried aloud, sobbing in
 
 410 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BU11NIT 
 
 great sobs that shook him from head to foot and that 
 hurt him, as they tore from his throat, as the first 
 breath of new life had hurt Nellie Platt; and, seeing 
 and understanding, she raised up one weak arm and 
 slipped it about his neck. 
 
 It was about a week after this occurrence when 
 Silas Trimmer, coming back from lunch to attend the 
 annual stock-holders' meeting of Trimmer and Com- 
 pany, stopped on the sidewalk to inspect, with some 
 curiosity, a strange, boxlike-looking structure which 
 leaned face downward upon the edge of the curbing. 
 It was three feet wide and full sixty feet long. He 
 stooped and tried to tilt it up, but it was too heavy 
 for his enfeebled frame, and with another curious 
 glance at it he went into the store. 
 
 The meeting was set for half-past two. It was now 
 scarcely two, and yet, when he opened the door of his 
 private office, which had been set apart for that day's 
 meeting, he was surprised at the number of people he 
 found in the room. 'A quick recognition of them 
 mystified him the more. They were Bobby Burnit 
 and Agnes, Johnson, Applerod and Chalmers. 
 
 "I came a little early, Mr. Trimmer," said Bobby, 
 in a polite conversational tone, "to have these three 
 hundred shares transferred upon the books of Trim- 
 mer and Company, before the stock-holders' meeting
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIED 411 
 
 "What shares are they?" inquired Silas in a voice 
 grown strangely shrill and metallic. 
 
 "The stock that was previously controlled by your 
 son-in-law, Mr. Clarence Smythe. Miss Elliston 
 bought them last week from your daughter, with the 
 full consent of your son-in-law." 
 
 "The dog!" Trimmer managed to gasp, and his 
 fingers clutched convulsively. 
 
 "Possibly," admitted Bobby dryly. "At any rate 
 he has had to leave town, and I do not think you will 
 be bothered with him any more. In the meantime, 
 Mr. Trimmer, I'd like to call your attention to a few 
 very interesting figures. When you urged me, four 
 years ago, to consolidate the John Burnit and Trim- 
 mer and Company Stores, my father's business was ap- 
 praised at two hundred and sixty thousand dollars and 
 yours at two hundred and forty. On your suggestion 
 we took in sixty thousand dollars of additional capital. 
 I did not know as much at that time as I do now, and 
 I let you sell this stock where you could control it, 
 virtually giving you three thousand shares to my two 
 thousand six hundred. You froze me out, elected your 
 own board, made yourself manager at an enormous 
 salary, and voted your son-in-law another one so ridic- 
 ulous that it was put out of all possibility for my 
 stock ever to yield any dividends. All right, Mr. 
 Trimmer. With the purchase of this three hundred
 
 412 THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 shares I now control two thousand nine hundred shares 
 and you two thousand seven hundred. I presume I 
 don't need to tell you what is ~ (.: '- to happen in to- 
 day's meeting." 
 
 To this Silas returned no answer. 
 
 "I am an old man," he muttered to himself as one 
 suddenly stricken. "I am an old, old man." 
 
 "I am going to oust you," continued Bobby, "and 
 to oust all your relatives from their fat positions ; and 
 I am going to elect myself to everything worth while. 
 I have brought Mr. Johnson with me to inspect your 
 books, and Mr. Chalmers to take charge of certain 
 legal matters connected with the concern immediately 
 after the close of to-day's meeting. I am going to re- 
 store Applerod to his position here from which you so 
 unceremoniously discharged him, and make Johnson 
 general manager of this and all my affairs. I under- 
 stand that your stock in this concern is mortgaged, 
 and that you will be utterly unable to redeem it. I 
 intend to buy it and practically own the entire com- 
 pany myself. Are there any questions you would like 
 to ask, Mr. Trimmer?" 
 
 There was none. Silas, crushed and dazed and 
 pitiable, only moaned that he was an old man ; that he 
 was an old, old man. 
 
 Bobby felt the gentle pressure of Agnes' hand upon 
 his arm. There was a moment of silence.
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIED 413 
 
 Trimmer looked around at them piteously. Once 
 more Bobby felt that touch upon his sleeve. Under- 
 standing, he went over to Silas and took him gently; 
 by the arm. 
 
 "Come over here to th'e window with me a minute," 
 said he, "and we will have a little business talk." 
 
 "Business ! Oh, yes ; business !" said Silas, bright- 
 ening up at the mention of the word. 
 
 He rose nervously and allowed Bobby to lead him, 
 bent and almost palsied, over to the window, where 
 they could look out on the busy street below, and the 
 roofs of the tall buildings, and the blue sky beyond 
 where it smiled down upon the river. It was only a 
 fleeting glance that Silas Trimmer cast at the familiar 
 scene outside, and almost immediately he turned to 
 Bobby, clutching his coat sleeve eagerly. "You you 
 said something about business," he half-whispered, 
 and over his face there came a shadow of that old, 
 shrewd look. 
 
 "Why, yes," replied Bobby uncomfortably. "I 
 think we can find a place for you, Mr. Trimmer. You 
 have kept this concern up splendidly, no matter how 
 much beset you were outside, and and I think John- 
 son will engage you, if you care for it, to look after 
 certain details of buying and such matters as that." 
 
 "Oh, yes, the buying," agreed Silas, nodding his 
 head. "I always was a good buyer and a good seller,
 
 414. THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 too !" and he chuckled. "About what do you say, now, 
 that my services would be worth ?" and with the pros- 
 pect of bartering more of his old self came back. 
 
 "We'll make that satisfactory, I can assure you," 
 said Bobby. "Your salary will be a very liberal one, 
 I am certain, and it will begin from to-day. First, 
 however, you must have a good rest a vacation with 
 pay, understand and it will make you strong again. 
 You are a little run down." 
 
 "Yes," agreed Silas, nodding his head as the anima- 
 tion faded out of his eyes. "I'm getting old. I think, 
 Mr. Burnit, if you don't mind I'll go into the little 
 room there and lie on the couch for a few minutes." 
 
 "That is a good idea," said Bobby. "You should 
 be rested for the meeting." 
 
 "Oh, yes," repeated Silas, nodding his head sagely ; 
 "the meeting." 
 
 They were uncomfortably silent when Bobby had 
 returned from the little room adjoining. The shadow 
 of tragedy lay upon them all, and it was out of this 
 shadow that Bobby spoke his determination. 
 
 "I am going to get out of business," he declared. 
 "It is a hard, hard game. I can win at it, but well, 
 I'd rather go back, if I only could, to my unsophistica- 
 tion of four years ago. I don't like business. Of 
 course, I'll keep this place for tradition's sake, and 
 because it would please my father no, I mean it will
 
 EVERYBODY GETS MARRIED 415 
 
 please him but I'm going to sell the Bulletin. I have 
 an offer for it at an excellent profit. I'm going to 
 intrust the management of the electric plant to my 
 good friend Biff, here, with Chalmers and Johnson as 
 starboard and larboard bulwarks, until the stock is 
 quoted at a high enough rating to be a profitable sale ; 
 then I'm going to turn it into money, and add it to the 
 original fund. I think I shall be busy enough just 
 looking after and enjoying my new partnership," and 
 he smiled down at Agnes, who smiled back at him with 
 a trusting admiration that needed no words to express. 
 
 "Beg your pardon, sir," said old Johnson, "but I 
 have a letter here for you," and from his inside pocket 
 he drew one of the familiar steel-gray envelopes, which 
 he handed to Bobby. 
 
 It was addressed: 
 
 To My Son Bobby, Upon His Regaining His Father's 
 Business 
 
 The message inside was so brief that one who had 
 not known well old John Burnit would never have 
 known the full, full heart out of which he penned it : 
 
 "I knew you'd do it, dear boy. Whatever mystery I 
 find in the great hereafter I shall be satisfied for I 
 knew you'd do it." 
 
 That was all.
 
 416 THE MAKING OE BOBBY BURNIT 
 
 "Johnson,'* said Bobby, crumpling up the letter in 
 his hand, and speaking briskly to beat back his emo- 
 tion, "we will move our offices to the same old quarters, 
 and we will move back, for my use, my father's old 
 desk with my father's portrait hanging above it, just 
 as they were when Silas Trimmer ordered them re- 
 moved." 
 
 Two of the stock-holders came in at this moment, 
 and Agnes went down into the store to find Biff Bates 
 and Nellie Platt, for there was much shopping to do. 
 Agnes had taken pretty Nellie under her chaperonage, 
 and every day now the girls were busy with prepara- 
 tions for certain events in which each was highly in- 
 terested. 
 
 Up in the office there was a meeting that was a 
 shock to all the stock-holders but one, and after it was 
 over Bobby joined the shoppers. When the four of 
 them had clambered into Bobby's automobile and were 
 rolling away, Bobby stopped his machine. 
 
 "Look," he said in calm triumph, and pointed up- 
 ward, his hand clasping a smaller hand which was to 
 rest contentedly in his through life. 
 
 Over the Grand Street front of the building from 
 which they had emerged, workmen were just raising 
 a huge electric sign, and it bore the legend : 
 
 THE JOHN BURNIT'S SON STORES
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
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