ectors were the same. The Circle
City Oil Syndicate was a failure.

Joe's face must have reflected his emotions, for Helen asked him:

"What's the matter? Is anything wrong?"

"I am afraid I have bad news for you," Joe replied.

"In what way? You're not going to----"

"It's about your stock. I'm sorry to tell you that your oil stock is
worthless--part of your fortune is gone, Helen!"

CHAPTER XXIII

HELEN GOES

Helen looked dazed for a few seconds. She stared at Joe as though she
did not understand what he had said. She looked at the oil stock
certificates in his hand. Joe continued to regard them dubiously.

"Worthless--my investment worthless?" Helen asked, after a bit.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Joe replied. "Of course I don't know much
about stocks, bonds and so on, but a man said this stock certificate
wasn't worth the price of a good cigar," and he held up the one the
hospital patient had given him. "Yours is the same kind, Helen, I'm
sorry to say."

"How do you know, Joe? Let me see them."

Joe gave her the two papers--elaborately printed, and lavishly enough
engraved to be government money, but aside from that worthless.

Then Joe told of the incident in the hospital--how he had accidentally
heard the man speak of the Circle City Oil Syndicate, and the
conversation that followed.

"If what he says is true, Helen, your money is gone," Joe finished.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." she said slowly. "Oh, dear, isn't it too bad?
And I was just thinking how nice it would be if I could increase my
fortune. Now I am likely to lose it. I wish I had known more about
business. I'd never have let this man fool me."

"I wish I had, too," remarked Joe. "Then I'd have advised you not to
risk your money in oil. But perhaps it isn't too late yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we may be able to sell back this stock. Of course it would
hardly be right to sell it to an innocent person, who did not know of
its worthlessness, for then they would lose also. But I mean the
Syndicate might buy it back, rather than have it become known that the
concern was worthless. I don't know much about such things."

"Neither do I," agreed Helen. "I'll tell you what let's do, Joe.
Let's ask Bill Watson. He use to be in business before he became a
clown, and he might tell us what to do."

"A good idea," commented Joe. "We'll do it."

The old clown was in the dressing room, but he came out when Helen a