h for me. I'm goin' to stay right here.'

"Well, that's what I did, Sir. The Gopher Gazette was for sale, and
inside of twenty-four hours I'd bought it, one-third cash, and I've been
runnin' it ever since. And I've proposed to Mrs. Whipple once a week
reg'lar the whole ten months."

"Only to get more of that run-along-now advice?" says I.

He winks rapid two or three times by way of relievin' his feelin's. "It
ain't exactly as bad as that," says he. "I reckon she's kind of got used
to my homely face, and if I have any good points at all, you can bet
she's found 'em. Anyway, one night a couple of months ago she dropped a
hint that was like manna from the sky. I've been livin' on it ever
since. 'Nelson,' says she, 'there's only one man I'd have, and that's
the man who will put Gopher on the map.'"

"Oh-ho!" says I. "Hence the buttons?"

"That's only part of my scheme," says Hubbs. "The rest I worked out
between the time I got word from this Mr. Steele and the day I left for
New York. Up to then I hadn't thought of comin' East to boost Gopher;
but the letter settled me. 'I'm goin' on,' says I to Mrs. Whipple, 'and
if Gopher ain't on the map when I come back, I'll never ask you again to
change your name to Hubbs. I'll change mine to Dubb!' So you see,
Professor, I ain't got any time to waste. Where can I find Mr. Steele?"

I gave him directions for locatin' J. Bayard, and off he pikes, swingin'
the green bag jaunty in one big paw. He'd been here ten minutes, and
he'd told me the story of his life. Now see what Steele gets out of him.

"Shorty," says J. Bayard, driftin' in languid after lunch and caressin'
his bank president whiskers approvin' as he camps down by the desk, "the
deeper I get into the career of your late friend, Pyramid Gordon, the
more I am amazed at the infinite pains he took to deal unjustly with so
many different persons of no account."

"All of which means, I expect," says I, "that you've been havin' a talk
with Hubbs. Well, what you goin' to do for him?"

Mr. Steele shrugs his shoulders. "He is simply impossible!" says he.

"How's that?" says I.

"I was unable to decide," says J. Bayard, "whether he was mentally
unbalanced, or just plain crank. Comes from some absurd little hole out
West, and has but one idea in his head,--to boom that place. Tried to
pin a beastly button on me. Ah! I see you have one."

"Sure!" says I. "'Go to Gopher!' Catchy, ain't it?"

"Bah!" says he. "What do I care fo