on to the Wag-boys' door. They were all there, sprawled about and
smoking.

"You did this!" she said, shakingly. "You did it for me!"

"Did what?" they asked in chorus, looking at her blankly.

"Oh, we know," said Harry Hope. "You've given me a chance--and I'll make
good!" His own voice sounded strange in his ears.

There was an instant's awkward pause, and then the Scrap Iron Kid said,
simply, "You'd better!" and the others nodded.

Llewellyn spoke up, saying, "Reddy is our regular chef; but I'd like to
have you see me cook a goose." Then he drew from his inside pocket what
seemed to be a leaf torn from a ledger, and, unfolding it, he struck a
match, then lighted it.

"I suppose I ought to be a man and face the music," Hope managed to
stutter, "but I'm going to cheat the ends of justice for June's sake.
I'm much obliged to you."

When they had gone off, hand in hand, the Scrap Iron Kid nodded
approvingly to George, saying, "That was sure some cookin' you did,
pal."

And Llewellyn answered, "Yes, I cooked your goose and mine, but she'll
be happy, anyhow."

"MAN PROPOSES--"

THE STORY OF A MAN WHO WANTED TO DIE

I

There were seventeen policies in all and they aggregated an even million
dollars. It thrilled Butler Murray to note his own name neatly typed
upon the outside of each. Those papers possessed a remarkable
fascination for him, not only because they meant the settlement of his
debt to Muriel, but because his life, instead of being the wholly
useless thing he had come to regard it, was really, by virtue of those
documents, a valuable asset upon which he could realize at once.

One million dollars was a great deal of money, even to Butler Murray,
and yet it was so easy! Why, it was even easier to make that amount than
it had been to spend it! Although the former process might not prove so
amusing, it at least offered a degree of interest wholly lacking in the
latter.

When DeVoe entered, Murray greeted him warmly. "I'm glad I caught you,
Henry. They told me you've been out West somewhere."

"Yes, I'm promoting, you know--mines!" DeVoe flung off his fur coat and
settled into an easy-chair.

"Getting along all right?"

"No. My friends either know too little about mines or too much about me.
I've a good proposition, though, and if I could ever get started, I'd
clean up a million."

"It's not so hard to make a million dollars."

"How the deuce do you know? You've never had to try