t flush on her face.

"You may think I've plumb lost my senses," she smiled, "but I want to
buy that thing. I've heard so much about your deals that I'm itching to
speculate some myself. You seem to have come to the end of your rope as
far as this cage is concerned, and I want to try my hand. They say two
heads is better 'n one, if one is a cabbage-head."

"_You?_--good Lord, what could you do with it?" Henley gasped.

"A heap of things," she retorted, lightly. "You've been offering it for
twenty-five dollars, and I'm going to take you up. I had just started to
the bank to deposit some money, and so I happen to have the ready
cash."

She put her hand into her pocket and drew out a roll of bills, but
Henley held up his hand protestingly, and flushed red.

"You don't spend your hard-earned money like that and through my foolish
example," he said. "I've had experience in all sorts of junk-handling,
and what I do is a different matter. Besides, I know there's no money to
be made out of that thing. I got the cream out of the deal, and I won't
let you throw money away."

Jim Cahews came in at this moment, and, redder in the face than ever,
Henley explained the situation.

"Alf's right, Miss Dixie," the clerk joined in. "You'd better take his
advice. If there was anything in that old pile of iron he'd have seen it
long ago."

But her money was lying on the show-case before Henley's eyes, and she
had retreated to the door.

"I've bought it," she insisted. "It's mine, and I'm going to make some
money out of it, too. I'm tired of working like a corn-field nigger for
puny profits, while you men make jokes here in the shade and get rich at
it."

Henley refused to touch the money. His flush had given place to a look
of pained concern.

"I can't--just can't let you do it!" he said. "Like a good many women, I
reckon, Dixie, you look at the dealings of men from the outside, and are
willing to go an' plunge into unknown waters and get ducked and leave
your money at the bottom. Profit ain't ever made by getting in at the
tail-end of another fellow's venture. I've squeezed this thing dry,
and--"

"I'm a more experienced milker than you are," Dixie laughed, "and the
cage is mine. There's your money. It's mine, and if I make money out of
it I won't have you grumbling, either."

Henley and Cahews exchanged glances of actual alarm.

"What do you intend to do with it?" Henley almost snapped in his
impatience.

"Did anybody