laisdell. Get him to put in a word, a good strong
word, for me, will you?"

"I'm afraid I can't, Dick," said David, "very consistently."

"Why not?"

"The fact is, I think Jim is putting in his best words for me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have plans in there myself."

"The devil!" Dick stared. "I thought you were out of the game."

"I'm back in to this extent."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't suppose you would be interested."

"Are your plans any good?"

"I think so," said David.

"Then I bet you're the one that's blocking me there." Dick shook his
head reproachfully. "Davy, I'm disappointed in you. I call it playing
it low down on me. You might at least have told me, so I could know
what to meet. It isn't fair. It isn't friendly. And after all I've
done for you! I didn't think you could do it." Dick sighed
sorrowfully, his faith in human nature evidently shattered.

"I'm sorry, Dick," said David. "I supposed you put all your faith in
your wires."

Dick thought a few minutes.

"Well, I'll tell you what we'll do," he offered at last. "When friends
find themselves competing, they should meet half-way. We'll pool on
your plans--I'll take a chance on them, sight unseen. I'll throw my
pull over to you. Then we'll split the spoils, two and one. The two
to me, of course."

"Why the two to you--of course?"

"The prestige of my name," said Dick with dignity, "is worth something,
I think. We'll have to get busy at once, because the committee meets
this afternoon."

"I'm afraid, Dick, I'll have to say no. You had a chance at my plans
before I thought of putting them in. You could have had them for
almost nothing, but you didn't think them worth looking over. I think
I'll stand or fall with them."

"That's final? After all I've--"

"Yes, Dick, final. But it doesn't mean I'm not grateful--"

With a gesture Dick waived that. "Very well," he said sadly, rising.
"I thought there was such a thing as friendship in business. I see I
was mistaken."

David wondered if Dick were losing his punch.

That afternoon came a wire.

"Am packing up now. Love. Shirley."

He tore the yellow paper slowly to bits. "Poor Shirley!" he muttered.

Poor Shirley, with her house of toys! Frightened now, no doubt, into
thinking that she wanted what she did not really want, as he had been
driven, by resentment at her blindness, into saying what he did not
really mean. She at least w