but she wouldn't be without
one of us for a thousand feeter land on the main street, and that's
going some."

"What does your father do, William?"

"Pa, he's an express-man, and a good one at that, Mister Whimple. He
owns two horses and rigs, and I tell you he keeps agoing all day long,
Saturdays too, an' he's a-buyin' the house we're in, an' it ain't no
cinch of a job liftin' a mortgage. Many's the time I've heard him say
he wished he could lift it as easy as he lifts some of the trunks he
carts."

"And what are you going to be, William?"

And William was silent. He flushed a little, toyed with a button of
his vest, and finally answered in a low tone--

"I know what I wanter be, and sometimes I think I know how to get
there, and sometimes I don't, and I'd rather not tell it just now."

"I hope you'll succeed, William--if your aim is a lofty one."

"Well," drawled William, "it's some high, and Tommy Watson says I'm
bughouse, but I tell him he's a bit that way himself."

"Tommy Watson, the auctioneer?"

"Sure--say, Mister Whimple, ain't he a pippin? My Pa says he can make
people buy rocks and weep with joy on the bargains they're gettin' in
diamon's."

That day Whimple called on Tommy Watson, famed as the peer of
auctioneers. To those who counted among his friends and acquaintances,
and they were as numerous as the wise "I-told-you-so's" on the day
after an election or a prize fight, Tommy was always an inspiration and
a delight. His long rambling store, with its wonderful stock of
furniture, books, nick-nacks, pictures, all that goes to add zest to
the life of the bargain-hunters and auction regulars, was a
gathering-place for all classes. Tommy knew and was respected by the
men whose names meant power and money; he was beloved by many a
wage-earner for the help he gave in the all-important problems of home
furnishing, and he was the idol of one William Adolphus Turnpike.

Whimple lost no time in preliminaries. "I've got an office boy,
Tommy," he said, "and----"

"One William Adolphus Turnpike, to wit," Tommy broke in.

"The same; he's quite a character, Tommy."

"A good lad though," said the auctioneer, "and a friend of mine."

"He says you know what he wants to be, and that you think he's
bughouse."

Tommy laughed. "He spends an hour here every morning," he said.

"What!"

"Turns up as regular as the clock at about fifteen minutes to eight,
and stays until he has just time to get to t