in dragging from her four reluctant "You betcher sweets!"

Presently Uncle Peter and Skinski shook hands about something, and
five minutes later Bunch's "relatives" took their departure to the
accompaniment of much internal applause on my part.

"Mr. McGowan is a very accomplished gentleman," Uncle Peter
decided; "but handicapped by a most depressing wife, most
depressing. The Blue Hills, eh! the Blue Hills! Now, I wonder----"

Then he began to whistle softly and went into the dining-room.

Monday morning, bright and early, I met Bunch, and we buried the
hatchet.

"I hope my beloved relatives didn't disgrace me while sojourning in
your midst," he chuckled.

"Not at all," I answered airily. "Why, Uncle Cornelius was the hit
of the season with Uncle Peter, though, of course, Aunt Flora
didn't make good with that 'You betcher sweet!' monologue of hers.
How could she? Even at that, she stands better with me than some
conversational queens I know who get so busy with the gab they make
me dizzy."

About noon Bunch and I ducked for New Rochelle to do a bit of
advance work for our show.

Nobody knew us in the town, so we posed as Cameron & Connolly,
owners of the Great Hall of Illusions, and Managers of the World
Wonder and Magic King, Signor Beppo Petroskinski, and Ma'moselle
Dodo, the Oriental Queen of Mystery.

Pretty hot line of goods, eh?

We handed out the salve thing to all the paper lads and they were
for us good and plenty.

After our publicity department had been in operation for about four
hours we began to see the neighbors sit up and notice us, and we
figured on about a $1,000 opening.

"The show will cost us about $80 a day," Bunch financed, with a
strangle hold on a big green lead pencil. "Let's see! expenses say
$500 a week at the outside. Now, let's strike a low average and
say we play to $800 a night; that's $4,800 a week, and two matinees
at, say $200, that's $5,000 on the week, eh, John! That gives us a
clean profit of $1,500 apiece for the three of us--oh, aces!"

"It looks good to me. Bunch," I agreed, and then we went out and
ordered some more three-sheets and a flock of snipe.

We spent the whole day in New Rochelle, and I reached home tired,
but enthusiastic.

"John," said Clara J. when we were alone after dinner, "Uncle Peter
says if you will let him have that $5,000 by Thursday or Friday he
will invest it where the returns will be enormous!"

"Sure," I answered, and I cou