nts, the spiritually beautiful inspiration which
characterizes that book of his--that deft little dip into
degeneracy--something about a frozen wedding! Oh, slush! Percy,
pass the cigarettes!"

"There must be a certain class of people who read that kind of
criticism," Bunch said.

"That windy stuff Stale hands out is supposed to be criticism,
Bunch, but it isn't--it's typewritten egotism."

"Yes, but it's useless for you to go after him, John; he'll only
hand you another javelin."

"Well, the next time that dub throws the gaff into me I'll know he
has a reason for it. Hereafter, every time he bats an eye in my
direction it's me for a swift get-back, I'll tell you those!"

"You should bear the ills of the flesh with Christian fortitude,"
grinned Bunch.

"Nix," I said. "I'm tired holding up something fat for a mutt like
that to paddle with a slapstick!"

CHAPTER IV.

JOHN HENRY GETS A SHOCK.

A few minutes later we went into the general restaurant and found
Signor Petroskinski waiting for us.

His right name was Jeff Mulligan, but Petroskinski sounded more
foreign, and he fell for it.

I introduced Skinski to Bunch, and in five minutes all the business
details were settled.

Skinski needed about $900 to pay for a couple of new illusions
which were being built for him, and Bunch was appointed a committee
to go down to Sixth Avenue and disburse the funds.

"I think we've got the real graft, don't you, Skinski?" I said,
after the luncheon had been ordered.

"It's a pipe!" Skinski replied in pure United States, much to
Bunch's surprise. From the name and the make-up I suppose Bunch
expected Skinski to yelp in Bulgarian or throw out signals in
Graeco-Roman.

Skinski was a warm member with the gab thing.

He got his start in life travelling with a medicine wagon in the
West, and what he didn't know about the show business wasn't
necessary.

"Say, people!" our star went on, "I've a couple of new card tricks
up my sleeve that will leave the Reubens gasping for air. And when
I pull my new illusion, entitled, 'Keno, or the Curious Cage,' on
the public it will be a case of counting easy coin. Say! did I
ever tell you about that gold mine I won in the West many moons
ago?"

"Nix on the dream work, Skinski," I cut in. "We've put up our good
money to start you, so let's get down to the programme."

"Oh! very well," said Skinski; "but I was down to see my brokers
to-day in Wall Street and there