hing to beat it. Say, I've got it too. Not for this territory. I'll
give the film people two years more to kill themselves in the North,
with the rot they're puttin' out. But in the South they ain't got such a
hold, and the folks are different. They're just old style enough down
there to fall for a street parade and fifty-cent seats on the blue
benches. They got the coin too--don't make no mistake about that. And
this Great Australian Hippodrome will make 'em loosen up like a Rube
showin' his best girl what he can do throwin' baseballs at the dummies.
Yea, Bo! It's the biggest bargain on the market too. Come in with me,
Shorty, on a half int'rest, splittin' fifty-fifty."

"Too big a gamble, Hunk," says I. "I've seen more money dropped on ring
shows than----"

"But we carry a pair of boxin' kangaroos," he breaks in eager, "that
pulls an act they go nutty over. And our tribe of original wild Bush
people has never been shown this side of Melbourne."

"Sorry, Hunk," says I, "but if I had all that money tied up in billboard
sheets and smoky canvas, I couldn't sleep well on windy nights. None of
your flat-car hippodromes for me. That's final! Besides, I got a date
with a couple of swells that's liable to show up here any minute, and I
ought to----"

What I really ought to have done was to have chucked a table cover over
Hunk and played him for a piece of statuary; but before I can make a
move in walks J. Bayard and this Washington gent. Next minute we was
bein' introduced, and all I can do is stand in front of Hunk with one
hand behind me, givin' him the fade-away signal energetic.

Does he get it? Not Hunk! The one real sensitive spot in his system can
be reached only by sluggin' him behind the ear with a bung starter, and
I didn't have one handy. He shoves his chair back into the corner and
continues to gawp; so I just has to let on that he ain't there at all.

Course I'd been put wise to who this Cuyler Morrison De Kay was. He's
what Mr. Steele calls an object of altruism. In other words, he's No. 7
on Pyramid Gordon's list, and our job is to frame up for him some kind
and generous deed, accordin' to the specifications of the will. As usual
too, J. Bayard had got all balled up over doin' it; for while Mr. De Kay
ain't quite the plute he looks, it turns out he's holdin' down one of
them government cinches, with a fat salary, mighty little real work, and
no worry. He's a widower, and a real elegant gent too. You could t