"The show will cost us about $80 a day," Bunch financed, with a
strangle hold on a big green lead pencil. "Let's see! expenses say
$500 a week at the outside. Now, let's strike a low average and
say we play to $800 a night; that's $4,800 a week, and two matinees
at, say $200, that's $5,000 on the week, eh, John! That gives us a
clean profit of $1,500 apiece for the three of us--oh, aces!"

"It looks good to me. Bunch," I agreed, and then we went out and
ordered some more three-sheets and a flock of snipe.

We spent the whole day in New Rochelle, and I reached home tired,
but enthusiastic.

"John," said Clara J. when we were alone after dinner, "Uncle Peter
says if you will let him have that $5,000 by Thursday or Friday he
will invest it where the returns will be enormous!"

"Sure," I answered, and I could feel my ears getting pale; "I'll
hand it over to him Thursday or Friday--if you think it's best not
to invest it in that new house."

"Oh! I really do!" she hurried back. "You know Uncle Peter is so
careful and so clever with his investments. He told me in
strictest confidence only this morning that he would more than
double your money in six months. Isn't that perfectly splendid!"

"Is that the wonderful secret you threatened me with?" I asked
mournfully.

"Oh no!" she replied; "I can't tell you that till Wednesday