l of yourself, and that we hain't made no fool of you. Of course we
couldn't help laughin' to see you actin' so redickerlous, Tom, and all
about a little piece of cheese, too. A feller would er thought, Tom,
that you'd been dumped in a sewer, to see you carry on; but when you get
one er them crazy notions in your head, why, there's no doin' anything
with you, but to let you sail in and enjoy yourself."

Bob then ate his choice bit of Brie with a keen relish, much to the
surprise of Tom, and I may say Herbert as well, for the latter's taste
had not been educated up to the point where he could eat such food.

At length reconciliation was reached, and Tom was once more happy. When
the coffee had been drunk, the three boys, while eating nuts and
raisins, discussed the problem of money making.

"How about the Wall Street racket?" remarked Tom.

"You refer to speculating, I suppose?" replied Herbert.

"Yes. You see my capital ain't earnin' me nothin'."

"Well, I have had very little time to think about that since we first
spoke of it. In fact, I am not in favor of the idea."

"What! not in favor of spekerlatin'?" said Bob, with astonishment.

"Nuther am I," put in Tom, wisely; "I don't think it's safe."

"But you think it's safe to bet on horse racin', don't you, Tom
Flannery?"

"Well, it's safer'n what spekerlatin' is, that's what I think, Bob
Hunter."

"Humph! You know a lot, don't you, Tom Flannery?"

"No, I don't know a lot about them Wall Street schemes, ef that's what
you mean; but I guess I can pick a winner at racin'."

"Well, ef you don't know nothin' about spekerlatin', how are you goin'
to use any judgment? Tell me that now, Tom Flannery."

"You kinder want to bulldoze me, don't you, Bob Hunter? You've got your
head sot on spekerlatin', and you want to make me think jest like you
do."

"You tire me, Tom Flannery," said Bob, with a great show of disgust.
"I'd try and have some sense, ef I was you."

"All right, Bob, then I'll try 'n' have some sense--I'll do jest as you
say, and spekerlate till my five dollars is all blowed in. Now, does
that satisfy you, Bob?"

Tom Flannery had almost always yielded readily to Bob's judgment. This
sudden independence of opinion, therefore, was a surprise to young
Hunter.

"Why, that's all right, Tom," said he, instantly changing his attitude.
"I don't care nothin' about your spekerlatin' ef you don't want to; but
I want to make some money, that's what I do, an