entified 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?"

"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 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 the