r his little two-by-four village? What
does anyone care, save the poor wretches who must live there? And yet he
insisted on boring me for one mortal hour with his preposterous schemes.
It appears that he has raised an advertising fund of a thousand dollars,
and means to open a publicity bureau somewhere downtown."

"Well, that's enterprisin', ain't it?" says I.

"It's imbecile!" says J. Bayard. "What can he do with a thousand in New
York. You might as well try to sprinkle Central Park with a quart
watering can. I told him so. I tried to get out of him too some
suggestion as to how we could best carry out the terms of Gordon's crazy
will; some kind and generous act that we could do for him, you know. But
he would talk of nothing but Gopher--everlastingly and eternally
Gopher!"

"Yes," says I, "that's his long suit."

"And do you know what he thinks he's going to do?" goes on Steele. "Why,
he's had the nerve to plot out a whole quarter-section around his
infernal town, organized a realty company, and had half a million
dollars' worth of Gopher Development shares printed! Thinks he's going
to unload trash like that here in New York! Now what can I do for such
a man?"

"Ain't that right in your line, though?" says I.

"It may have been at one time," admits J. Bayard; "but to-day you
couldn't give away nickel chances on the national gold reserve. The
market is dead. Even the curb brokers have fallen back on racing tin
rolling toys and matching quarters."

Well, I couldn't dispute it. If anyone knows the phony finance game at
all, it's J. Bayard Steele. And the best I could do was to get him to
agree to sort of keep track of Hubbs and maybe, after he'd blown all his
cash against this bloomin' stunt, step in and send him back to Gopher
before he hit the bread line.

Must have been a week that I didn't hear from either of 'em, and then
here the other afternoon J. Bayard calls up on the 'phone.

"Shorty," says he, "if you want to see our friend Hubbs reach the
pinnacle of his folly, come down to Broad street right away. I'll meet
you in front of the Hancock National!"

As there's no rush on at the studio just then I goes down.

"It's rich," says Steele. "Actually, that country clown is trying on,
right here in New York, the same primitive methods that real estate
boomers use in the soggy South and the woolly West. Would you believe
it? Come have a look."

Well, say, it wa'n't easy gettin' near enough, at that. But