ssee Shad had been dissolved and each financier had assumed an
independent and belligerent attitude. The Shad had a certain adroit and
devious imagination, but the practical mind was Macnooder. His point of
view was purely economic. Hickey might plan the daring manoeuvre which
made the conquest of the clapper possible, and revel in the faculty's
amazement at the sudden silence of the tyrant will. Macnooder would have
proceeded to capitalize this imagination by fabricating clapper watch
charms and selling them at auction prices. The Gutter Pup might organize
the sporting club in memory of the lamented Marquis of Queensberry;
Macnooder sold the tickets and extinguished the surplus. His ambition
was not to be a philosopher, or a benefactor. He announced openly that
he intended to be a millionaire, and among his admiring victims there
was much speculation as to just how far he had gone in the
accomplishment of his heart's ambition.

When Skippy moved into an eavesdropping position, the situation was
this: Bill Appleby, having carefully closed and locked the cash drawer,
was braced with both arms extended against the counter, eyeing Macnooder
with a look of steely negation that expressed a settled conviction to
doubt instantly any statement whenever or however made. Macnooder's
round capuchin body was drawn up in confidence and ease and the smile on
his face was bland as he remarked:

"Bill--get my proposition; let it percolate, sift down and settle. But,
Bill, make no mistake. The Macnooder Folding Toothbrush is a
fact--patented and financed! I'm not asking you to take stock,--no,
Bill, no." He shook his head and said with friendly regret--"I couldn't,
Bill; not in fairness to myself--not in fairness to my family. Why,
Bill, if you were to get in on the ground floor, you'd buy a yacht in
five years, live on Fifth Avenue and marry Lillian Russell."

"Go slow," said Appleby huskily, for Appleby was a bachelor.

"Well, watch _me_," said Macnooder with a wave of his hand that played
among the rubies and emeralds floating in his imagination. "Bill, I'd
like to put you in--I can't--that's flat. I can't! Why, Bill, if you put
your hand in your pocket this moment and took out that little green
wallet of yours and said: 'Mr. Macnooder, this is your account--it's
nothing--I dismiss it, I tear it to pieces--you are my guest from now
on; let's start right;--what will you have?' If you should say that--"

"I won't!" said Appleby, sh